A slippery mound
Parted before you
Its walls pink and petal-ish.
Blossoming when your fingers come near its entrance,
Sprouting moisture,
Making it easier to enter.
It squelches when you go in,
Parting and staring at how beautiful each petal is.
The birds in its recipient’s throat coming alive;
Chirping melodies when you dive deeper,
Causing earthquakes on their mounds of flesh
And small beads of sweat spraying across their body.
Their heaving when you explore further
Your fingers moving up towards a spot;
A spot with a honey pot,
Waiting for you to dip your fingers in.
Those sounds start again,
Singing praises again.
They convulse around your fingers
That sweet honey,
Sticking to your fingers.
Now you leave the petal
And taste how sweet her honey is.
Delicious!
