Come Hither

A useful tip for you, fingertips:
always pierce gloves
You may never feel warmth,
if you’ve never brushed love

Rubbing up
against the soft
slippery apricot pits,
taste the juice
keeps
ripening,
rhining
over summer-soft fruit.

Dripping from the very
core of every tree,
never a lonely key
you ctrl, alt- delete…
you lather, rinse repeat
you knead
I need you
to sign a language unseen.

You- greatest conquest,
conjure up combinations
pointing to assign
blame for violation.

The very first- you,
Pioneer to feel the lips,
trace the warm iris
moistened island
moaning siren
too hard, climbing past
dry climates.

Flesh-wrought precision
Cross the border of Cali-
fornia cation
No cadence, I trace
the nape which sings
to depths never so tame,
yet taste same as when I
Came in.

Travel to heights
of climax, with steel
wrists tightening grip...
dizzying fragrance
nosebleed from anticipated
Vertigo
we glide,
no trip.

Listen, don’t give me
quips and qualms
not palms, nor knuckles
never knees
so weak
they buck in the tremble
these tips,
calm and supple.

You scraped plates
of the tastiest,
Most decadent dish
Always assured to
pull alarm at the sign
of smoke,
to build delicious
semi-sweet molten convictions.

Index slips,
curls so softly
alluring,
reeling me in
demands I come, she asks
tour guideof divine atlas.

Tells me spots
to find
sensations to hit;
Why yes, finger tips,
I will do as you wish.













(c) Paul LaTorre 2010