“Yes.”

Wet honey on a petal,

Areola on the tongue.

I smell sun on wet shoulders,

Aware of a light, a mist.

I breathe it gradually,

Like my lover’s sleeping lips--

Clear, so pure it’s almost nothing.

And somewhere, a flower smiles…

Honeysuckle.

--

I just discovered this is a decent piece backwards! Tell me what you think...