Tonight's Poet Corner: When There's Heat
When There's Heat
by Belinda Roddie
When she walked my way, the adrenaline
zapped my bones and melted them into
butter. When she kissed me, she tasted like
cinnamon, those lips burning with that extra
spice. When she pulled me to the bed, I couldn't
help adoring her femininity - the way her skirt
made her legs burst forward like soft, but
sturdy, redwood tree trunks. I drew her toward
me, and we were stirred together into one pot.
She took hold of my hair before we descended
into the scalding brew - all boiled, bubbling,
and to be simmered and served with a smile.
by Belinda Roddie
When she walked my way, the adrenaline
zapped my bones and melted them into
butter. When she kissed me, she tasted like
cinnamon, those lips burning with that extra
spice. When she pulled me to the bed, I couldn't
help adoring her femininity - the way her skirt
made her legs burst forward like soft, but
sturdy, redwood tree trunks. I drew her toward
me, and we were stirred together into one pot.
She took hold of my hair before we descended
into the scalding brew - all boiled, bubbling,
and to be simmered and served with a smile.
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