Longing for a Summer Abroad

I long to hike the pathways of your parted lips
like college kids trekking Europe in the summer
forged passport of forbidden romance
where in great gulps of flesh fleeting lust left
tendrils we baby birds reach up instinctively
to feed on

growing stronger in the ghostly shadows
lascivious feeding stinking we rage
all up and down that curling vine
two tomato cans and a string between us
in wet breath warm bath water waves
wash over slick islands of knees
islands of breasts
and below that porcelain sea some
such sunken sweet pink beast rests

oh, to be original sin
the first serpent on his yellow belly crawling
through the hidden spaces only
slithering allows
to slip beneath the surface of that bath.

TA