A Taste
I tasted your soul last night.
It left your essence to linger on my tongue.
Not to mention the scent that dances bare
there About my upper lip.
Or your aura’s nectar that has stained my mouth,
With fantom flavors of your character's own passion.
And then there’s that dribble of lust that clings to my chin
The same one that I dare to forget and wipe clean.
Only To be left with nothing But a dream.
I tasted your soul last night.
By Desi E.Sherman
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