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On Her Cherry
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On Her Cherry   By F.W. Morris

Last night I dreamt about an angel

with a long tongue -she used it to tie

knots in cherry stems.  Intrigued, I asked

where one learns such a talent.

She said she had read books

about how to make love to men

and this trick was just the tip

of the iceberg.  I asked if I could stay

and watch.  She smiled, sucking another stem

into her wet mouth, letting the red fruit

sit between her lips.  She wrapped

her hands around my neck; pulled me

to her.  I crushed the cherry with my front teeth

let the warm fluid run down my chin, and gather

into a pool at the base of my throat.

 

Your such a messy boy, she said.

In the dream,

this made so much sense

 

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