Turning one's head
side to side
to catch which one
will not play along.

Curving or straight
dark or gray,
a confident corkscrew
reaching out to no one.

All it can do
is try to go away
from where it came
though it must stay.

At least for now,
while only an image
a reflection can see.

Darkened stain
to likely white porcelain
that helps keep the heat.

Holds a large handle
as if in a required industry
for the heaviest
yet precious works.

Larger than its standard
with its whale's mouth
to swallow all
to be swallowed
once again.

Hold more than enough
but less than needed;  
that wondrous liquid
matching its vessel.

Greedily to be
As if they were served to me
To dine selfishly

On many hot days
Our thirsts are quenched by pink tongues
Upon ample flesh

Shaped so perfectly
So one could wish to get lost
In your soft lush folds

No poet has ever written
only to have one,
yet hundreds are written
to have only one.

From far deep between
She soaks the world around her
With waves of sweet fire