Inspired by Kisser, by Vasilina Orlova (plus brandy)…
Another night when I don’t get to kiss anybody
when my tongue will not taste that melty taste
as your tongue meets mine
and we sink into the moment
as though it were an extra-plush pillow
on a king-size bed in a luxury hotel
fourteen stories above the streets of Tokyo at night
I wonder if your lips are that soft
or if they’re just playing it that way
to make me crazy
They wouldn’t lie to me, would they?
You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?
I’m not demanding anything you don’t want to give
I’m not asking for anything I can’t give in return
The tug-of-war between my patience and my lack thereof
have me trembling again, from fingertip to fingertip
that bittersweet mix of anticipation and disappointment
before it all comes to pass—or I sabotage myself
without so much as a by-your-leave
Maybe I should shut the fuck up and ask you:
what’s your pleasure?
(22 July 2016)