Vicissitudes

Dormant Shifts

Ice cream castles in the Summer time
running down the small of your back,
tasting of peach sorbet mixed with salt
from your pores, concentration brings
about pleasure, I can taste the tattoo ink
with each lick, no napkin required, only
passengers riding within street cars named
desire appreciate our public display of
aroused erection, feminine plumber crack
addictive, bend over, clean this pipe, unclog
semen sediments wishing to build
fleshly foundations,
caramel, chocolate, vanilla…

Ice “cream” streams seeping,
nestled within vagina lining,
being scooped by full-sized silver spoons
giving pleasure, while providing privilege
each time entrance in female mouths is granted,
muffled female shouts sounding like humming birds,
torso vibrations attempting to keep with
tongue lashings, wet, warm as lava pools
in sun spots, not hot, but enough to summon
liquid rewards during apex of verbal interaction,
wishing caramel, chocolate, vanilla came jointly
packaged with the six pack…

Ice cream dreams interrupted,
lost when cold lips whisper,
“its time for you to go now,
my wife is on her way home,
leave your phone on, I’ll call
you… …later.”