They say dessert should come last—
But I’ve never followed rules that fast.
Her flavor’s complex, deep and rare,
Like vintage wine and midnight air.
No need for spoons or table grace,
I take my time, I know my place.
Between the lines, beneath the lace—
A secret kept in sacred space.
She parts like petals after rain,
And I return, again, again.
A sommelier of all things wet,
I savor notes most never get.
Some chase spice, or chocolate bliss,
But nothing tastes as fine as this.
I dine where love and hunger meet—
Her body's rhythm, warm and sweet.
And when I rise, her eyes say “stay”—
But I’ll be back. I’m just that way.
© Susie Stiles-Wolf
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Author:
GeekSusie (
Offline) - Published: June 6th, 2025 15:42
- Category: Love
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Fränz Müller, Damaso
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Comments2
Sensuous, seductive even sexual it speaks of attraction and the pleasure of taste. Lovely
Excellent write
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