[a poetic confession]
dripping ecstasy from nectar rimmed labia
tongued whisked on the glory soon to be labeled delicacy
you're more than mere garnish
a savory sip supple satisfaction
making "lip smacking good"
wish it birth seasonings unfettered by common taste buds
a cuisine soul filling
the body bursts orgasmic belches
manifesting space to consume gelee's du jour
palette-able encore rip roaring herbs and spices
prance on chef plattered specials
"pardon...garcon, serve me some her again"
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