Tongue Tasting
Swirls of entangled
tongues
Sweet as dessert--A
French one-
A petit four? No,
bigger-richer
Chocolate soufflé?
No, Sweeter
Not as dense.
Brulee
Yes
Fired sugar, a
protective barrier
To keep the creamy
custard safe
Unspoiled. Thick.
Tantalyzing-titillating,
Spiking the senses
Shooting down the
spine
Goosebumps,
tingling toes,
Frenzied follicles
Jumping like pop
rock candy in my mouth.
Back and forth, the
push and pull
Two fencers with
sly sabers
Jabbing, stabbing,
retreating
Noses clash hoping
this duel ends in a draw-
The blood red
cabernet drowning the mouth
Tidal fate pulling
me with the moon
A waxing crescent,
enough to hang hope on
Like a wind chime
Cymbals clanging
with every crash of crimson lips
Caught in random
breezes, swaying any which way
Indifferent to the
tones, grunts
Heavy breathing,
gasps for oxygen
The bends
Chambers of the
heart resting hyperbaric,
Pumping, thumping,
throbbing
Heads bobbing,
gripping like mantis,
Preying it never
ends
Never having to say
au revoir mon ami.
By P.S. Sanger
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