No need for a loud background sound,
my howl will raise you up off the ground.
I can snatch you up with my voice,
you won’t walk away again by choice.
Go spill our interstellar secrets,
share there are absolutely no regrets.
Speak of how my taste is addictive,
dramatize every drop I have to give.
You always say ‘You have Moon skin.
Tell me tales of everywhere you’ve been.’
Fall into my depiction of a far off land,
my words you instinctively understand.
Savor a sip of picante’ exotica.
I’m the backbeat, a cappella erotica.
Categories:
picante, emotions, music, romance,
Form: Couplet
I have a penchant for your kiss,
I kind of dig that hidden smile;
Look in my eyes there’s no typo;
Each moment I don’t want to miss,
Baby please let me stay awhile;
It’s so warm I want to go slow;
On whispered words I reminisce,
caught up in your gentleman’s style;
A drawl dripping with southern flow;
My heart hangs on a precipice
fearing I’m headed to exile;
Picante is charged with mellow;
Affinity for pure jesters,
dunked by desire that sequesters.
Categories:
picante, emotions, kiss, love, romance,
Form: Other
Flavours of desire become potent,
flavours of desire dance on my tongue;
Flavours of desire the taste of your skin;
Flavours of desire are flakes of vanilla,
flavours of desire bite them off supple lips;
Flavours of desire are extremely intense;
Flavours of desire erotic salsa picante,
flavours of desire oy que rico!
Flavours of desire strawberries and cacao;
Flavours of desire I can taste what’s inside,
flavours of desire nowhere left to hide;
Flavours of desire seep through your pores;
I’m left arched, open, and ready,
fill me with your flavours of desire.
Categories:
picante, emotions, feelings, lust, romance,
Form: List
Chalupa, Discada.
Picante, Tostada.
With Cheese.
Chiles en Nogada.
OH, Yeah, We Wana.
Cinco De Mayo Feast.
Categories:
picante, anniversary,
Form: Rhyme
Left toothbrushless mine pilfered along with shampoo,deodorant, razors and other such, found me wasted in Walmart, thieving Gnomes at the last homeless shelter are my suspects. His name tag said Elvis, greeting customers at the starting gate, navigating shopping cart jockeys with cherubs riding shotgun, my request for the location of items is answered Presley style "Past houseware" he Hound Dogged lip curled.
Among waffle irons and toasters in an aisle devoid of housewife print skirts, your memory purchased my thoughts, forging past bedding, linen sheets how we once tangled and ravaged, is that your image disappearing into lingerie.
Jesus on his employee name badge suffering from price tag neurosis."Love potion? We don't sell that vagabundo polo." He growled with picante breath.
You told me I could find everything I needed here, but not even Walmart has what it would take to make you love me again.
I hope Target is open!
©2019
Categories:
picante, feelings, memory,
Form: Free verse
she's a wild
flower with
rose hips
and broad
leaves
she to me
is medicinal
and can be
prepared in
many ways
she can be
eaten raw
like a salad
a musky taste
with a hint of mint
she can be
made into a
tea and drunk
hot or cold not
needing honey
or fed with
garlic and
mustard
holding
her
close to
my chest
picante
driving
away
all
my
ailments
Categories:
picante, muse,
Form: I do not know?