womb of tastes
that bloom on tongues,
brushing lips like a rose;
orb of warmth; purse of vitality,
humming against mouths,
a nude sylph's song,
as if tastebuds were sun-drenched
clover.
you curve
like the breasts of robins blending.
paintbrushes perk to trace
your lusty colors:
sloped chartreuse, buxom red.
rubies burn envious.
sunsets mimic then fade.
let me dive
into your pulpy scent,
chalice of watery honey —
kiss then release me to float,
succor me with remembrance,
the immortal mist of you,
the nurturant embers.
