I have to tip-toe
on my toe-tips
to avoid the honey of your lips.
I crave to kiss
on how your body mine does lean.
My bones go soft,
that buckle more the more you please.
My top teeth crunch
my bottom ones
as you do my pants undone.
Eyes get tangled
in cotton sheets,
skin exposing fine crow’s-feet.
your pegs-holes round, my pegs square.
Pants back on legs,
re-formed to hips;
sheets tossed out like celery-tips.