Fingers trace questions in open air
and we create our own mythology.
As a siren song sinks into your skin,
my hums become your hymns.
Hedera helix twists around your tongue
so you salivate adoring confessions.
My softened smile radiates your words,
your breath is my perfume.
You whisper your lips taste of nectarines
and say you’ve never had a thing so sweet.
I counter you taste of pomegranates,
knowing you have me locked.
I asked you to let me into your mind,
leaving fingerprints on your subconscious.
Now hints of sweet fruits remind you of me,
the way I say your name.
I’d never tell how tightly you hold me;
my eyes, now the like of Persephone’s.
Keep the illusion of my upper hand,
holding my cards closely.