~ Noshed! ~

~ Noshed! ~

But I don’t remember,

No, not yet,

If it’s the twilight of your voice,

Or those glassy midnight eyes,

Your lips, dancing melodious,

Or should I say — my gaze aslant —

Caressing tongue, you flip and toss,

Betwixt those clever teeth,

Inside your summer mouth,

Warmly stroking between smiles,

Dainty, pretty a-l-p-h-a-b-e-t-s …

O’ you season of my heart,

So sumptuously exotic you are,

When you eat your w-o-r-d-s,

Making them deliciously half,

For I love the way you talk …

Wherefore, you should see, to grasp,

That I’m still striving to remember so hard …

Mon Amour … would you talk again? 

Whilst feeding my famished, hedonistic stare …

For I love when you talk, albeit unexplained!