Scarabs dance impositions across your navel,
flattening themselves out in honour of your belly,
as I am watching your pulse spell out cryptograms
just below your pink
hairless
skin.
I lap the insects up like a patient kitten, lingering too long
(just long enough)
as the tips of my fingers press down on your
pulsing
hieroglyphics.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Scarabs dance impositions across your navel,
flattening themselves out in honour of your belly,
as I am watching your pulse spell out cryptograms
just below your pink
hairless
skin.
I lap the insects up like a patient kitten, lingering too long
(just long enough)
as the tips of my fingers press down on your
pulsing
hieroglyphics.
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