The buttons pop
Between my thumb
And forefinger like
Precious pearls
Eros dream weave
Un-weaved
One layer at a time
Pearl buttons
Giving way to
Flesh buttons
Soft buttons
Hardening
Into buds
I can touch
With the tip
Of my fingers
And then my tongue,
Like a buck deer
Licking the tip
Of a salt lick
Churned up
As I pump up
And press my lips
Around it
To taste the oozing
Pale honey
I must drink deep
Or perish
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