Golden Vanilla
Maybe its the way the sun
Reflects off what drips off your tongue
As melting drops of creamy white
Just disappear within my site....
Only to appear once more
But not the same spot as before
As I watch the trails of crème recess
And disappear below your dress....
Giving me the awesome thrill
Of wondering what it will chill
While listening for any sound
You make as it is running down....
I grab your hands around a cone
To catch each drip before you moan
Then watching as it slowly fills
But crouching right before it spills....
Then and only then I lick
The places that it didnt stick
Grabbing for another cone
Enjoying what Ive always known.
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