Tempting Pot Of Desire

Written by: Mike Butler

Red lips, the perfect simmer in her hips, 
A pot of desire seasoned just right,
the malt vinegar to my fish and chips.
I had Coke at home, I wanted a Sprite.

I lifted the lid, stuck one finger in
the sizzling gooey layers steaming
with sticky sin, but what to my chagrin, 
The absent aftertaste had no meaning.

I searched for fullness, but not satisfied
and still feel a rumble deep down below,
I need to eat with my heart—not my eyes,
but temptation’s a sly cook, apropos.

His recipe for lust grew from the root; 
you know, it’s in our blood to eat the fruit