Tonight's Poet Corner: Heart Ripple

Heart Ripple

Oh, if that doesn't make me wanna
scream like a saxophone,
trilling up the hot air between my hips
and your lips, singing a one-note melody
that dips only when the tongue cools the drool
dribbling down my chin. Lean into the

fornicating swivels of the Möbius strip
of two folds four parts flesh, creasing
in and out like a sand dune, thick, warm
castles burning without salt to swallow them.
There's brown sugar on my eyelids - lick it off,
suck at my lashes, removing all the
mucus hyperventilations from what
would be tears of exhausting difference.

There. No cigarette.
Chocolate fountain bliss, hot swirling syrup
configuration on a sweet and sour high
eating my curds and whey. Rub my tuffet
a little longer, sample the confection
first before judgment, and then you have
a crippled current staggering from the stove
and starting a short-lived flame before sleep.