take sips of immorality like it's a fine wine
that you've missed out on
for centuries
while it
cured

hold the throbbing handfuls
turn them in your palm
marvel at their warmth and wetness and excitement.

sample the platters brought before you
golden, rich, budding
pluck them before they waste away
and regret flowers in your closing irises.

dance rhythmically against him
the lingering taste still in your mouth
his sweat against your neck
hands gripping your back
savor the moments
that your laurel crown
makes your red cheeks glow.