Disintegrate On Temperate Tongue

A Poem

I want to trickle through your limbic brain
sex being something not needing
to be sanctified by neurons
needing a button
pressed inside me
find that squishy
surrounded part
no one finds
except for your hardness.

Cells depleting daily by
habitual patterns of life
causing free radicals
to grow like mold
in the molars of your bones
until there’s nothing but
depletion, and I want to
reimagine the universe
through our combination.

Culminate me like
I am cotton candy
meant to disintegrate
on a temperate tongue.

Let dopamine drive
the brain to supine
then prone
positions of how
we love so right
where I lick sweat
from melanin flesh
it tastes like
honeydew drought
making my tongue wag
salivate with drool.