The pink flesh is
Soft like the sound of
Silk through
Fresh green grass --
Lips on lips.
Marasmus has waited
For the sweet
Covetous flesh to pour
Into my mouth
Before leaving, wishing
She could take
Some of the taste with
Her.
There are many fruits
In the world,
But this one -- the one
The spills her
Liquid tongue over mine
-- is my experience
Alone. If not then, than for
Now and forever.