Breakfast kisses in bed
Lips that taste like
Freshly squeezed orange juice.
There’s something about
Unmade beds in the morning
And naked bodies waking up next to each other
Like married slices of buttered toast.
The unspoken passion in the air
Because there’s an understanding
From the way I tear down unmentionables
Like one would pluck at grapes.
Short gasps and strewn grasps that accompany sunrise
Because the love we make
Anchors fervor in ways unimaginable
Like the scalding heat from tea cups
You awaken the lust in my loins
And, although the first serving was bellyful
I want more of you.
– Smyekh David-West.