Poetry

Hungry for you

Hungry for you

I wish you were an ice-cream on a stick
So I could thaw your coldness, lick by lick,
With maybe a chocolate coating I could bite
And break away to reach your sweet delight,
Undressing you, removing nip by nip,
Your shiny shell—it melts upon my lips.

I wish you were an olive, pimento-stuffed,
So addictive I can’t get enough
And I’d suck out your hot red heart then chew
The cruel green salty bitterness of you,
But only after, sip by sip, I’ve waited
To spear you from my martini, marinated.

I wish you were a pomegranate exotic,
The apple of love so famous for being erotic,
The rind like leather I could slowly shred
Then tongue out jewels of juicy ruby red
Or pry them glistening with my fingertips
And savour the flavour wrapped around the pips.

But I don’t care if you’re only a chocolate éclair,
Creamy and dreamy and sweet, but mostly air,
Or even a pile of peanuts in a bowl
If I can grab a handful and crunch them whole.
Whatever you are, you’re welcome to my lips—
I want your weight a lifetime on my hips.

Edith Speers

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