my tongue isn’t
long enough
to reach all the places down your throat
it wants to touch

i’ll have to kiss your ribs
some other way

two syllables
never left your tongue
you sung it
like a song
stuck in your head

a constant reminder
that I was the one
you were talking to
when you followed
with three more words

it was never the way
you said my name
but the way
you never made me
forget it

My tongue gives so much pleasure with honey flavoured praise
She bears ripe fruit and drips with perfumed sap
If you merit her attention she’ll treat you with delight

Her touch is warm and tender
If she is cherished…

Right?

She’s tamed to speak with merit but there is no guarantee
She won’t spout bitter venom if you’ve wounded me

Men have tried to tame her with strength and brutal lust
They met with bitter poison

Killing lust forever…

Cursed!

on our first date,
you asked,
what that mouth does,

now,
let me ask the same to you,
but besides lying.

what else but to scrape soil, trail your thumb, etch a vision onto dust;

what else but to close eyes, dive down dizzying depths, drag limbs back ashore;

what else but to friend the fire, hug the heat, sing the storm to sleep;

what else but to hold your hand, hear your heartbeat, taste the tip of your tongue;

what else but to wipe wounds, shed skin, build nests from broken bones;

what else but to keep breathing.