Her soft pink fingers rose
Toward my lipstick hued
Fast approaching breathless
Partially open mouth!

We stood still… the only movement now
Paused, staring into each other
With scorching orbs,
One pair brown, the other blue.

Ignorance with primal instinct roiling
In the pits of regions not wholly considered…
Yet waiting to be devoured
With flavours only fear evokes.

“Lick it…you gotta lick it right…”
Reverberated through the stalls
In the high school girls’ wash room
As prom night reached its zenith.

A short trimmed blue painted finger
Lightly touched a burgundy stained lip…
Moving gently up its contour to the left…
…up and around to the right…

Big brown eyes, speechlessly, dropped to
Saliva glistening lips…a partially visible
Pink wet tongue…an opening
Exuding rasping breaths

Passionate focus was jolted
At the intrusion…of a finger
Into the wetness and warmth
Of my lower lip, gently inquiring

Violet speckled eyes
Raised their lids to mine
As synchronistically, blues and browns
Closed softly to mingled breaths

The painted blue fingers slid out
Trailing wetness around
Into my curls as my hands
Rose involuntarily to her waist
Our lips convening…in tentative bliss

Parted mouths now afire with
Moisture and heat that
Liquefy to voracious excavations
As our tongues deliriously collide…