Saturday, October 15, 2011


With both hands
clasped gently around.
Not too soft
Neither hard.
Without a squeeze
or knead.
The thumb’s nail pierced
into the swirl on the head;
Making its way,
A little before the pulp,
Holding the hem
between the finger tips.
With her gaze fixed.
And her face at a close distance.
Thus, began
the undressing.
Peeling off the inhibition.
what was within.
Amid a light spray of freshness;
Like the sea breeze
On the sandy shore.
She looked with one eye closed
Not because she felt coy;
But just to avoid the burn.
Now the magic potion
Dripped and flowed
To her elbow.
Lips lay coated
sweet and sour.
A tinge of tang
Teased and tickled
Her taste buds.
With the pip,
the peel lay spiraled.
The pulp
attained salvation.
And she cleansed
her hands;
Feeling content
after indulgence.