that firey cinnamon scent.
your tongue dances across the stage of your lips,
and you look at me through that soft dark jungle of hair.
i lean in
my arrid nervous lips
with your ear.
" I mean this,.....sincerely...."
you flash me that smile,
crooked tooth, just on the left of your mouth.
like golden leaves falling
trapse their way to the cold steel of my belt.
---- it would have been easier to crack my chest and gut my lungs
if thats all you wanted.