Mid-Morning Pick Me Up.


Mid- Morning Pick -Me- Up.


I squat full of
caffeinated muscle
steaming in

the morning air,
near the edge

of a coffee table
on a sun porch

waiting to spring upward,
and feel her sweet

lips caress me.

She takes so long

between suckles
when she's reading

that star magazine,

of bronze gods
while I sit here

all tan growing lukewarm.

She filled me earlier

so sweet and low,
and lightened

my dark disposition,
but now I am

almost drained
waiting for her

 to hold me,
lift me up,

and empty my soul.

Long moments

with her lips,

her tongue,

part of her.

Then she

reaches for me again,
her fingers

gripping my handle
as she bends just a bit
to swallow me.

Ah, I am

by her love, 
her lip smacking

glee for me,
her morning coffee.



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Comments 1 comment

poetlorraine 7 years ago

you have turned into a cup of coffee, i will drink to that

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