Friday, June 22, 2012

Sweet Sensuality


It’s sweltering; perhaps the sun moved a few parsecs closer overnight. From my step I can see the reflected heat shimmer upward, the distortion appearing as if a slab of cobras dancing above a bed of concrete. Water seeps from my forehead; it is a colander through which my body is draining its excess H2O.

I must be quick, I must focus; the object of my attentions hasn’t long to live in this atmosphere. It glistens. Maroon slurry slithers down its length and onto my curled fist, each drop creating a deep purple river; living things that forge their way across the back of my hand and down my lightly haired arm to finally drip to the sidewalk below.


I am practiced, skillful, yet the stellar furnace has me at a disadvantage. It has infinite power, I am only human; my tongue will only move so fast. Lightly I sink my teeth into its tip, listening to the gentle crush of crystallized ice as I slowly gnaw my way to its center.


And then it breaks free, and I must chew, risking great pain from those sensitive teeth I’ve too long ignored. I swallow only to bite again, and again, until I strike the wooden stick; then I have shortened my prize to the perfect length at last. I slowly close my eyes and prepare for the inevitable, the last bit of sugary refreshment. My lips slide across its chilling surface until they come in contact with the handle; then grip tightly… and as my head rears back I slip free the last bite of Grape Popsicle.

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