Sweetness is held at the tip of the tongue

Which is why I long for yours to meet mine

To taste the ripeness of your mouth

Heavy with my musk

The texture of each taste bud 

Ignited with a robust flavoring 

Of salt and sweat 

Lips soft yet bruised 

With a redness like an overripe strawberry

They look like the blood would burst

Forth at the slightest graze of my teeth 

Sticky strings of spit

Moving from lip to lip

As if spiders built a web 

A smile of satisfaction 

Swollen lips over cutting teeth