July 03, 2012
You make me want to eat dark cherries, just to see the juice stain my fingers and lips.
Lying across our big bed with a bowl of fruit between us. The fat little globes almost bursting with sweetness as we devour them one by one. And then I will smirk, with my pretty plump lips arranged so pleasingly across my face while I look you in the eyes and take the cherry you were about to pick up. And POP! down it goes adding another dark layer to my red mouth. And I lick the juice off my fingertips one by one.
You reach over and brush away a stray trickle of the cherries’ purple blood and lick it off your thumb. I reach across and catch your hand; fiddling with the sliding band of your ring… smiling because I know it was chosen more for me than you. And you catch my fingers in yours, stilling the fidgeting long enough to press a kiss on my own finger just below the stone that matches your own eyes. I always turn my head and blush when you do that, giving you just enough time to steal the last lovely cherry.
And I hit you with my pillow before sending you to the kitchen for more.