Eat me, I’m Tasty
This is all Alice, Tommy Atkins, Alphonso, and their friends ever have to say to come home with me
My chin and fingers are slick with surrender.
My tongue has teased and tasted sticky pleasure.
My willingness to submit is an open mouth.
“Eat me, I’m tasty” is how you get me to pick you up, take you home, and undress you.
I love how you always bring a friend.
But your friend is never ready so they watch as we indulge.
Afterward, they stay for a few days and take care of me.
Slowly, they become you, fleshy and firm then soft and squishy.
Desire unfolds fragrantly, your sweetness swells.
Every morning is a good morning with you.
You are golden sunshine grazing my lips, moistening them gently with your juice until I smile.
And then you explode in my mouth, round and smooth, tangy sometimes.
I suck you until you melt on my tongue.
I swallow the life that made you.
We become one.
I’m a French-American writer, journalist, and editor now based in the Netherlands. To continue the conversation, follow the bird. For email and everything else, deets in bio.