I can feel the essence of your strawberry-flavored chapstick slide between my lips.
Your mouth always tastes like mint and fruit.
I kiss your neck, taking in the vanilla taste of your skin between my teeth.
My tongue catches a swipe of this soft, sugary spot, and it falls in love.
Then between your ribs, above and below your bra, the taste of warm salty water and sweet, sweet summertime.
Your body becomes a meal, a picnic, a feast, for my poor, deprived mouth.
I crave you.
