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By jack Date: 2002 Sep 24 Comment on this Work [[2002.09.24.17.13.6191]] |
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open slow a wrinkle on a line tantalize my taste awaken with time remove this lid silver from birth to reveal golden kisses of sun sweet mirth peaches sliced packed so neat bathed in syrups ambrosian bequeath texture felt as fingers caress one just plucked to tastes its breath soft to tip of tongues first touch electricity tingles of sugars first rush can was warmed by late summer sun passes its warmth from peach to tongue as i slow lick long one knife edged treat cleave it t'ween tongue and teeth access its flesh deep beneath granting its nectar sudden release an i dream.... of packed to a can of each slice as large as i as its flesh warmed by sun its softness cupping my harder skin buoyed in syrup sweet and yet more of satin its touch than stickyess of thrusting my hands between each slice feeling the softness tickle my sides and i awake to look with such sadness felt of a can empty of late suns melt then i feel a slow beginning smile for an ad that i had pulled from a file of a sale on peaches and the cost of love of two cans bought for the price of one |