Ecstasy
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Her toes! her toes! I love her toes so!
More luscious than any veggies that grow. They taste like berries ripe on the vine and tickle my taster like blackberry wine. I can’t get enough, so its open-toed shoes she wears when out so as not to lose the chance to suckle like in mathematics class. I’ll slither past desks like a snake in the grass then yum on her wigglers til I hear her sigh, informing we’ve just transmogrified Pi. © 2022 Monte Zouma Leave a tip for this poet? Guest has chosen to ask for tips. Any donation is made directly to this poet, and is greatly appreciated.
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