Toro Tokuda

A taste.
A loving taste, every shred of your skin
That I can reasonably reach
And then some not--
Tongue flat, enterprising
Your ocean for it to breach.

A moan.
A deep moan, for your ears
Alone, echoing through the stone
For the raven, by the snake
A song, a melody, a sonnet,
Hummed low, buzzing through bone.

A touch.
A sweet touch, grasping,
Caressing, surreal now, at last;
Mine to love, mine to satisfy
First of many, many, a lifetime,
Yours to keep, future and past.