"Fruit Snacks"

“Fruit Snacks”

Mistakenly got it twisted.

Was ready to catch the mist

and still somehow missed it

so again,

my lap is dripping.

I’ve missed this feeling.

Tiny kisses.

Pecks between sips of juice.

Limbs not loose enough yet.

Joints locked 

like my eyes 

on her thighs

and she drives me.

Wouldn’t bother even trying

to pry myself from this couch.

Mouth open for extra air.

Palms full of her hair 

with a scent reminiscent

of nutmeg and warm cinnamon.

Time went away.

Middle of the day, I suppose.

Close to her center.

Collected clothes around dinner.

Ceiling on a dimmer

like light hardly matters.

Casual switch in her hips.

More gradual now.

Faster.

Smooth and slick in my lap

like lather or batter overmixed.

Fixed on release,

she fits like a crease

Folded gently into pillows.

Moist air billows

like pollen in the wind.

Anticipation enlisted for ease

when she takes me in

and before we reach the end,

I find my lap wet again.

Woke up to her

chewing bubble gum.

Perfume in my lungs.

Bit my tongue

when I leaned in to kiss her.

Whispered demands

for my hands to follow accordingly.

Forward first then leaned back 

after losing my jeans,

or shorts,

or slacks.

It never really matters.

Had her worst ways displayed

as the best of my intentions.

Thought I’d eventually

commit some time to intervention

and make way to some ascension

from my place on this furniture

but her overtures

effective

with a few simple directives

and some incentive, of course

tends to smooth over this coarse

concept of merely being her favorite seat.

I fancy her my favorite treat.

not really one for meager portion

when I can clearly see it packaged.

Managed nice and tight in lace.

Soft and smooth to grace my face

so I would gladly sit in place

if only to enjoy a taste.

Trace of juice at the seam.

Warm like steam just escaped.

Skin slightly scrapes stubble.

Adjustments made for slip and stumble

and the gentle rumbling of thighs.

Eyes close and time froze

when it decided to return.

Moments burned into my mind:

Recurrently resurfacing

sound

like chimes in the wind.

Scent

wondered about when distant,

lusted after when in reach

and truly felt when up close.

Taste

a sweetly scattered burst of flavor

I imagine teeth would have to 

break through skin to savor.

Thought

a loop of similar reasons why I

never seem to labor enough

to rise from this couch

to include the way my neck would bend,

her wrappers strewn across my floor

and in the lazy haze of it all,

this moisture in my lap

Again.

I think I’ll lay here awhile.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz