Dessert

Prose Poem

Image taken from Pinterest

---

Vedic Texts (c. 1500 BCE) The earliest references to kissing-like behavior, described as “rubbing and pressing noses together” or “inhaling each other’s soul,” are found in these Sanskrit scriptures.

---

You have my thighs like its sweet bread with milk dripping down my torso, pooling in my belly button.

Hollow me out until I am a shell of chocolate wafer and make your nest there. Cocoa runs down my chin and you never miss a beat to lick it. Your arms leave dents in my body like I leave fingerprints on the surface of my candy bar. You don’t like almonds but when I chew ‘em and spit the pieces into your mouth, you find the taste of heaven’s soil on your tongue.

You force yourself to swallow clumps of my hair because they look like burnt cotton candy in the sun. You cough them up and try again like a fool in love with something that doesn’t melt in their mouth. After all, you have a poetic soul, who will stop at nothing to prove his love. How long will you push tiny sticks into my eyeballs and suck at them?

Let your teeth sink in my meat, taste that land’s history. What is there to brag of if the copulation is not ritualistic? Skin me alive, sate your hunger—love is an all consumer. Let my mass gently choke you amongst the red sheets & red eyes as you destroy my insides. Carve your stories on my body, let me be your canvas that you ravage. You shan’t need anything more than the devouring of your lover’s core.

You consume me until it hurts your belly and never bellyache about the ache, so I fall in love too. Take my tongue in your mouth and promise to never bite—only suck at the sour juice until you feel limp rubber in the back of your throat. Chocolate chips on my chest and fingertips with glazed shields make me your favourite treat, so you eat & eat, relentless, claiming one bite is enough yet you still stay starving? Because you’ll always starve for me. Tell me, how the blood in my throat tastes more delicious with a gently blocked flow.

You can unravel me, unravel me, unravel me to my core and explore the epidemic that ruins my heart & mind from the inside, the very illness I try to hide in metaphors, the very sickness you managed to notice in the pools of my eyes the first time we met, dark as the night and just as unforgiving, just as ungiving, just as unforthcoming, the very poison that seems to pull you in to feel alive for the very first time before you feel nothing ever again.

And then, I cut strips of your flesh to reach the nerves of your arms. I let them run along the edges of my teeth in a bite as I coil the ends of them on a finger and pull like you’re a puppet and I’m the master. The burn of these strings against my teeth is so exhilarating that it kindles the fire of my quintessence to burn every boundary of flesh and skin between us.

I cut big holes at your hips and lick everything away until their bare bones. I bite like a dog, trying to taste the flavours of your mischief there with big eyes. Your feet call to me for telling the stories lived in your ankles while I nibble on your ears to hear them echo about the manic noises in your head, the same ones that cease to exist in the snap of moment when I lock my lips onto yours.

I let your uncooked muscles squish in my mouth like gummy bears, cherishing their demise between the jaws of who loves them. Your bone(r) tastes sweet like the milk you make yet it’s not as mouth-watering as the marrow in your collarbone. I let your blood drip over my face and I bathe in this fluid, letting it cleanse me better than water.

To feel loved is to be destroyed. To love is to destroy. To love is to be destroyed. To feel loved is to be allowed to destroy.

And I say grace for my heavy dinner.

- Bleh 👅