You know what I miss most about the summer? Watching the sweat drip down your neck then disappear below a spaghetti strap tank top hugging your chest. The way your hand drags across your forehead, the sweat pulling with it.
Would I be too forward in asking to have the honor next time?
That drip though. The slow, darting path it takes downward along the front of your neck. Disappearing into other beads of sweat and strengthening on its stuttered determination.
I’d like to press my finger in its way and have it pool on my tip.
Or, really, I would just want to kiss you again in the summer’s heat. Remembering a random moment from while the humid air kept us in its clutches no matter where we hid. The cold is setting in and all I want is to know your bodies sweat again as we peeled off our clothes and pressed into each other. My lips would find your ears as our skin met in the rising temperature.
Then I’d whisper a tune in your ear and let it sing around inside. I’ll not try to gauge your reaction and let it just come as it does. I like when you surprise me.
Honey lips, honey eyes
honey spread on my demise.
Hair of corn, colored canary
in my face, beneath I’m buried.
Skin of silk, smooth to touch
wandering hands moved to lust.
You make me weak you make me high
with your heart I beg to die.