Risen From the Foam
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Mars and Venus by Sydney Harold Meteyard
Honeysuckle blooms and between my teeth, I tease it
like nipples on a lover's chest, so sweet though milk
is long gone. Salt and sweet the breast, my tongue flits
amongst love's sweat. Her skin fluid as Chinese silk.
Her juices flow; the ripest mango slit submits
as tears fill the hollow of her throat. None are her ilk,
but I, Mars, know She who has rises from the foam.
Worship her who causes worlds to writhe and moan.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015
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