Trouble my body, you with the sweet eyes

Your tongue has two stories it tells--I thought your accent would be Southern, but it's blended in a pot with herbs from Vietnam, something you hid behind your long back

When we first met.

Do you want to touch them?

Your eyes, those sweet garden eyes, they have a richer soil than your mouth--your mouth is so tight, the corners forced into a box, and I can't help but wonder if it's because you have two tongues

Behind those lips.

Is it moving too fast?

Come here, I'll gentle you into it all--first you have to untie them with a kiss. I will gift you all the kisses your eyes deserve, I will feed you how wet you made me with a fingertip, and you will grow

Into your garden eyes.

Can you kiss me there?

Between my breasts, put your freed tongues there--one nipple for each. And the root of you, plant it in me--trouble my body with your body, feed me sugary tears from those eyes of yours, make me

a fuck that can grow.