Let me lick your cinnamon freckles
and map them with my tongue.
If I could strip you of your body
I'd leave this feature, just this one.
Perhaps that might sound creepy,
I fetishize your spots.
But dear oh dear forgive me
I could gobble them right up.
If poetry must be pretty
I will take this moment to compare
them to stars, grains of sand- whatever
sends the shover back up your spine.
But these thoughts are not pretty
they are hungry
and your skin makes my mind
S A L I V A T E.
— The End —