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.