You are like the butter on my bread
soft and creamy
on you, my jam I spread,
sweet, jelly-like and red,
dare I take a bite, a nibble,
a flickering lick,
or shall I wait until the night
and gorge myself,
mouthful after mouthful,
swallowing,
savouring the taste, the flavour,
the whole of you
crust and all,
spread out on my bed.