by Matt Shaw

Ready lips rest

Warm and soft,

Trembling and apprehensive,

Lively and full,

Raw and elemental and romantic,

Slow and purposeful

Just above her writhing body.


Splayed legs,

Fruit stained, blushing bodice,

Shadows where lips

Met a warm surface

(Again and again)

And drank Deeply,

Tasted sour, sweet ambrosia.


Lips to graceful curve,

Found a well from which

This dancing lifeblood comes

(Again and again),

Calls my name,

Begs of me to drink More,

Presses on my nose and

Rides upon my upper lip,

Invokes the name of god and

Fills the pulsing air with

Her aroma.


Finally she is spent and

I have drunk Enough,

And in the afterglow she

Kisses shut my eyes and

Guides me into sleep.