You are like a *******,
Baby.

Supple and grotesque, you writhe
Your way between my legs, over mountains of
Tender chicken *******,
“Slimy slimy slimy”

You said. I chuckled
Thinking of your skin clinging to mine like
A wet t-shirt because
No matter how hard I try to pinch you off
You spring right back, hands
Pressed against my chest.

We were as innocent as a young boy
Reaching into his pants, discovering what it is
To be touched for the first time, what it is to
Dance on the edge of the mountain.