slow, so slow

tip of a tongue
paints it's humid trail
a cross
first across
from shoulder to shoulder

                you giggle
                when hair astray
                brushes by below
                your chin

                slow, so slow
                a whisper detected
                on inaudible exhale

then
a tilted trajectory
and a last limber
luscious lick

from hungry lips
down face down throat
crossing paths with history
and extend
that pillow book calligraphy
on a journey
always as virginal
and anew

                you sigh
                and tilt my perspective
                to hold a breath
                until I've passed

                still a whisper
                slow, so slow
                to feel all of me
                through your tastebuds

so I linger in that
breathless pit
and taste your pulse
once more
before breathless
I descend

to finally
finally
exchange whispers
for wails

tongue trail crucifixion
for exuberant exploitation
of your most hidden
most hungry
your most
most everything

no cross this time
but every other sign
under the stars