Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Adam



I can’t touch the apple
And not think of your
Cool skin against
My overheated fingers
The drip of condensation
From my breath
Spilling onto my palm
The tang lingering
On the tip of my tongue
As I ache to bite
To break the red flesh
To slip the juice
I know will
Taste so sweet

No comments:

Post a Comment