I didn't like the taste of grapefruit the first time I tried it way back when. I was 10 and it lingered in my mouth for too long; its acrid flavors teasing my buds unlike how you tease me in the bedroom. But meshed onto your teeth and tongue- with my wanton words caught in-between- I learned to savor it on my own and allow all the growing storms tumble out of my throat as though I needed to breathe; needing to re-construct myself consistently on how to breathe when I feel your heat.
My bones go frail and my head goes light, I become overwhelmed with a hunger for every piece of you- from the whimpers you spare to the words you mumble. I've always loved everything you fed me- even the poison you'd slip into my drink with every kiss in the morning. Slowly, I became no more my own person, but a relic with a still gaze in the direction of your sleeping frame from up upon your cold, hard shelf.
suck on this.
If I arrive
you will pluck my astral core
and leave me cold and stiff,
a husk that you fusked.
So shall I resist your velvet touch,
declaring it as sandpaper;
so shall I call your half-lidded eyes
orbs perverse and dangerous;
so shall I....unnhhhh...belay that!
I mean it! I am not a meal for youuuohhhh
ugh. to be the puppet. caught in some sex game? or something else? but yes yes. these things happen. maybe you like the grapefruit too much now. the acid seems sweet and it does it's burning in the backround, only to be felt later. leaving the craving for another taste?