The girl holds
The apricot
In her hand;
And as
She brings it
To her lips
Seductively,

You sit back
In your chair
And take note
Of her movements,
Like an artist
Meditating
On his subject,

Taking in
The way
Her lips part
And her tongue,
Like some
Small lizard,
Licks

The apricot's skin;
The juices
From her mouth
Linger
At the edges;
You watch
As she bites

The flesh sedately
As she can,
(As if
It were
The skin
Of her lover man)
Then eating

(As maybe
Her mother
Told her)
With lips sealed,
Her eyes close,
Her whole body
Engaging the fruit,

The sensations
Of flesh on flesh,
In an almost
****** love game,
The juices runs,
Down the hand,
Out between

Lips partly sealed,
Onto the chin,
Where you watch,
As her hand
Brushes seductively
The high juices
With a small laughter.