If I could give but one word of advice It would be like corn silk to wet fingers mid-shuck You doing your best to shake them off Sticking all the same You asked A smile curves at sun wrinkled corners Once again I fall all ripe peach juicy Right into your calloused hands We roll and chase, playing children in an orchard heavy soaked with late August light Green moss intensity locks with my whiskey amber stare Breathing you in, wanting you deeper than I can hold a secret Golden hour glows around whispering fingertips Sipping softly of your sweetness Nipping at heated skin Dizzy tilt my head back until the sky goes wild with stars Lay me gentle into tall grass Giving promises to love me hard