Blue of Noon by Robert Beveridge
Blue of Noon
A lunch date, it was,
noon encounter with bratwurst
and chicken soup. Lips part,
caress sausage, throat
ingests. Nourishment. What
is so hot about eating? The motion
of lips and throat? Faraway
look of pleasure, glazed
eyes? How you brush
crumbs from your chest,
Dessert, musky, wet sweetness.
Banana, peeled, stroked,
slipped in deep. The end protrudes.
I nibble it, suck its length
inch by inch from you, lips
against yours, fruit between us.
Your hands tangled in my hair.
Banana, velvet silk and luscious,
with hardness. Your fingernails
caress, release. Guide.
Slip me into you, your sweetness.
As we kiss banana breathes between us.
©Robert Beveridge 2016
Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Chiron Review, Poetry Breakfast, and Third Wednesday, among others.