Ice Cream

The cream you drip is sweeter on every lick and

each tooth I sink leaves marks on your surface.

You moisten my lips and send me in bliss

every time my tongue glides over your leaking mess.

A “sweet tooth” is my excuse for pigging-out when

eating-you-out to the last satisfying pout.

I don’t retract from bending over

and eating it from the back,

because I’m a freak who devours the treat

and enjoys to mop-up the waffle’s cavity.

Some say too much of thee is bad for me,

but I’m not getting over you

until I find something new.



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