sexual fruit

i always dreamed of the day
i would possess a flaming orb,
a globular cluster of fire and blood
perfectly palmed in hands of gratitude;
today is that day, today
i inherit the sun's secrets
dressed in bitter and sweet skin,
porous armor aromatic, descendant
of arbors that are clothed in green wax
in rolling waves punctuated by circular multitudes
mimicking the sun turned sweet.

i am forever your slave,
your servant and devotee,
your ardent and passionate lover
eager to undress you with ease,
always met with the succulent scent
of your lofty perfumed juices.
so willingly you welcome the probe
of these adolescent fingers lingering in
liquid, languid secretions beneath your navel,
secrets revealed in peels.

it might as well be me who is naked,
erect as my tongue feels your smooth circumference,
a cleavage of hemispheres leads to slow
delectable delight, liquid sunlight partitioned
into individual quivers of pleasure
as i shiver in this rainy day, dripping
with sugar fornicating my lips kissing the sun
dressed in a sexual fruit named satsuma.