Wednesday, December 1, 2010

On the topic of delectable dots and biological buttons



Your nipple is an island of pleasure.

A solitary haven
thrusting towards the sky from a sea
the color of silken coffee.  


There are tiny creases upon it;

like the fine lines upon one's lips
that whisper of secret things.

Unlike the bashful mimosa
it yearns for my touch
and hardens from the slightest contact.

Your nipple is an island
And my mouth, the coming tsunami.

Earthquakes.
Eruptions.

Then soothing silent calm.


(time to visit the other one)

----
by tobie

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