Just a Taste
"its finally quiet."
he whispers
"are you tired?"
trailing rough fingers
down my cheek.
"no,
i'm hungry."
a slow smile
creeps across his face
"what are you in the mood for?"
as if he doesn't know
i stare into his eyes,
he moves his face closer
i can smell cigarettes and gin
on his breath
i settle into the comforter,
move the pillow under my head,
"i'm in the mood for..."
my hand on his chest
up to his mouth
tracing my fingers
along his lips,
i wet them
with my tounge
"you taste mighty fine, mister..."
his smile is so boyish
that you see the child in him
befor apathy set in
and his time was taken over by adulthood
"...i think i'll have some of you."
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