Down to the depths, red, her long legs,
Shoed in the darkness of coffee dregs,
Plant a kiss on the brim with a shrug.
I smell you with my tongue like a drug;
A whiff smirks, in love, a breath begs
For the lock of a kiss that pegs
Your being onto mine: our tongues snug.
You remember the tip of a blade of grass
Where we found a pearl made of glass;
The sun had furled itself at dusk,
Covered our love in its husk?
On the rim of that mug, the tip of that blade
Was a (too) short journey: our love frayed.