We danced to Cul De Sac slow, ungraceful on my part

you held my hips and made me move to the rhythm

sensuous as it was it was the sweat on your skin

that turned me on.

With your dark brown hair up in a bun, little beads of it

were slowly rolling down your forehead

into your eyebrows

where I could kiss it off and taste it on my lips.

The salty essence of you – how much of your body

did I kiss, lick, taste, feel, explore?

I consumed you as you consumed me.

Communion makes more sense now than it ever did.

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