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Yum

Lay there my canvas
my mahogany aphrodisiac
as I paint you with all my
hedonistic somatic peccability,

my buried facility only naps
in the lavender hue of your
Arcadian honey,

the sapor is a merlot Picasso
on my tongue oscillating
tornado brush strokes
your Rembrandt shimmers
in the labored goosebumps
of your hum,

tangerine swells rise fracturing
the rubicon levees of your lips
sending periwinkle sighs
dissipating into a mist.


Copyright © 2017 Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Written by QuietusQuill
Published
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