lips of midnight
I k i s s
the lips
of
midnight
& sigh a
verse
of your heat...
how must
I hold myself
from
f
e
e
l
i
n
g
your dusk
with warm wet words
as this quill
quickens
to tongue-tease,
twist it
deep into your
throbbing heart
longing,
craving,
aching,
for I want every
part of your metaphor
in my mouth
~ to be mine ~
Inking me
softly but firmly
until dawn
learns to release
its
gold
in
honeyed hues...
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