A Taste of Honey

A TASTE OF HONEY

Titillate
Quiet fingers fondle sleeping cheek
Fires placid pulse pumps rapid pace
Alive
Revive me keep me rising up.

Titillate
Breathing pulsing sultry summer heat
Melts brine to beads then molten streams
Afire
Dire search for nectar’s lair.

Rhythm

Robusto surrenders to first flame casts its cloud to its breeze puff puff suck it down ‘tween my fingers take it down fire in the belly keep on fannin’ fight its fade light its fire hour later feel the shade.

Is This It?

Passion, is this it,
A tingle
Where ne’r was one?

Passion, is this it,
Flesh touch
Against the silk?

Passion, is this it,
Restless nights
Steals slumber’s bed?

Passion, is this it,
Heart yells,
Faster your pursuit?

Passion, is this it,
Knowing anger
Refuse contain it?

Passion, is this it,
What’s felt
When ’tis not given?