I can still taste the crescent moons on your shoulders,
In my honey mouth,
And my teeth are humming from all of
My sticky sweet
Your salty sin —
Sin that was tongue and bite and your whispers crashing into my silken limbs.
I can still taste the look on your face as your eyes pushed your colour into mine,
And we created a pigment only we can see
It is the colour of writhing in the gloam
And paying no notice to the clouds.
It is the colour of entanglement in the tall sweeping grasses
To the sensuous sounds of the succulent sea
Between my shivering thighs,
And it sounds like utter breathloss.
I can still taste my finger nails digging into your flesh,
And I can’t remember my name, or how we even got here, and… when did the day even break? And I think I feel it mounting, and I think I feel it coming, and oh god why can’t I imagine you outside of me anymore?
I can still taste my cry and your joy on our laced fingers,
And I am intimately aware of the flavour of the beating sun
In your chest.
*** …[awkward throat clearing noise]…. ***
*** TJ – 1 ; Peanut Gallery – 0 ***