Its one of your game again we play
the stupid games I never refuse
with a basket of fruits in between
we sit across each other in the bed
“this is all you get to eat tonight”
you smile with your eyes and take a bite
passing it to me,you search my face
“remember the rule,on every third bite
we lose a peice of what is currently worn”
“You cheater”,i scream and laugh
“you told me to come in layers of it”
while i nibble at the fruit,juice dripping
along my fingers,that you lick without wait.
“No one offerred you that”, I protest
“Its my game, my rules”,with a wink you say.
And so we peel the fruit and our self,
as we face each other with a new formed lust.
On the second fruit, or maybe it was third,
the basket forgotten, and so the distances
you eat from my hands or maybe its me
the sheets crumpled, fruit stains dried,
the night spent,tracing abyss of our desires.

Prompted @ March challenge (Day 11 – Fruit) , OSI (passionate)