A game of doctor
My tongue on your skin
Circling your nipple
To what end
I trail my hands down your chest
Starting at the top
Indent, by indent
Bone, by bone
Down to your navel
My lips drag
To a slow follow
For what is to follow
Is only played out in the dark
In the hollow, in the quiet
This game of doctor
Is best left
To be played in the dark
And as my pen drags across the paper
Its melted from my mind