By Gala
Date: 9 April 2001
Warm Berry Tarts
You invite me for a lover's game---
cover my eyes first with a scarf,
and ask me softly to leave my hands
at my sides...
I want to feed you, you say.
I nod, fighting a smile.
I saw this movie too.
My lips tremble just a little,
and you lay a single grape against them.
My lips part, I catch it with my teeth,
bite softly to pierce the skin...
sweet wine...
next you rub a ripe banana
across my mouth
daring me to take a big bite,
as I hear your breath change.
sweet, soft sticky,
and my mouth so full i must chew
to clear the way...
and now you brush something
coarse...bumpy...
i smell butter
and berries so ripe
feel the cream tickle my nose
and strain to catch it all
as the taste and texture
dance on my tongue.
The tart is still warm
the berries firm yet runny
oh red bliss
and my hands are mine again
to pull you close
and let you taste
warm berry Tart.
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