It sparkles with life,
and it's warm, with soft skin.
The glow, the beauty, dazzles me.
To eat of such a thing
would be to bruise the purest flesh,
but it's there, tantalizing,
and the dear thing doesn't know
how it torments me.
How much longer can I gaze in adoration
before my fingers,
all unbidden,
reach out to possess that perfection,
to bring it to my lips?
I must leave.
But for the caress of his voice,
but for the unclouded joy of his laughter...
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