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Literature Text
This sweetness has fixed itself
To my hands, my nostrils, and from my lips drips.
Slow, warm, heavy drips
Enough to moisten my tongue
But not to pour. It only drips.
The fragrance fills me till I am consumed.
I glide fingers across numb warm lips.
Honey; sticky, sweet, slick.
To my hands, my nostrils, and from my lips drips.
Slow, warm, heavy drips
Enough to moisten my tongue
But not to pour. It only drips.
The fragrance fills me till I am consumed.
I glide fingers across numb warm lips.
Honey; sticky, sweet, slick.
The Bee and The Bear
© 2012 - 2024 jupitertears87
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