there was the distinct taste
of gritty honeycomb on your lips.
an amalgamation of bee and flow'r, chaste
but lovely, gracing the apex of your hips.
oh, lust! how it tastes like cherry pie and poppyseed—
and feels like sticky
summer grease.
oh, how the callous of your name drips down my chin like milkweed
and the monarchs
feast.
tongue to tongue and cheek to cheek
pine sap mountains and lake-bed weeds
worship has ne'er tasted so sweet—
murmur your hopes into prayer beads.
love is such a sad name; obedient to none
except you—dear, dear lily of the nile
you make me want to rise with the sun
just so i can be graced longer with your smile.
