Breakfast, in Bed… [POEM]

Am I hungry?
or does it matter
either way I want you,
before and after
and during, too
enduring, you
is worth every taste
worked up my appetite,
the chase
where do I start, today
You seem a little tense,
let me eat that away
the flavors inside of you
burst, into my mouth
breakfast, in bed
or on the couch
breakfast has a volume, loud
and a temperature, hot
breakfast has a spot,
many actually
I won’t miss a one,
You won’t serve breakfast to anyone else,
after me
custom menu and cuisine
specifically designed, to keep
satisfaction, guaranteed
evidence, on my chin
extra, cream

Do you like the way I lick the plate?
the way I pay attention to my meal,
no waste
manners, mean something else
Good Morning breakfast,
I can serve myself…

I’ll have some chocolate
candy kisses, cocoa skin
soft and tender
breakfast hands
succulent, moist
waist and breast
a serving of hips and thighs,
I want to taste myself
your back is a buffet,
I must say
breakfast looks so good,
Momma said not to play with my food,
Momma ain’t here today

I like my breakfast warm
breakfast about to come,
let me stir it,
now pour it onto me,
as I make a mess of myself,

Do you enjoy the way I eat?
I like to blow my breakfast first,
a treat
vegetarian, craving her meat
source is rare,
so of course it’s pink
not supposed to talk with my mouth full,
but she likes the way I speak,
on top, of my head
my breakfast,
in bed.


©2015 Cornelious “See” Flowers


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