to monch

a poem

Body Scape Sexy — Free photo on Pixabay

you drizzle me
with your shatter, your shards
of apple, berry, too chewed grape.
you slather me in the pulp’s squish,
in the chimes of wet, wet, wet.
the rain courts a glisten beneath
the boughs, the arcades of primal
picnic and orchards proffered.
juices wine between your teeth.
nectars spike upon your tongue.
ambrosias blossom teeth in my eye,
deliciously blinking, chomping.
and the rinds erect like a bulwark.
soft and smoldering, it begs to
be knelt at, to be conquered by
bacchanalian silences brewing
in this thirst — a desert so dry
we could drink god’s drool.
gulp grace’s impossible sweat.
ether as it ethers.