Melting

I reread your letters
over and over
some parts
are a million miles away
and others
are as fresh
as the moment
when I first received them.

The words drip
down on me
like melting ice cream,
the cool, sticky, liquid kind
that slides from one finger
to another
asking
rolling
repeating
begging
moaning
relinquishing
to be licked up,
and then I
reread the words
again and again
until the flavors
seem transfixed
in my mind.

At that moment
there, thinking
of you--
warm
and waiting,
your gentle breath
humming
its capacity
for yearning,
the cone drips through
and the stain on my clothes
cannot be wiped away
from the letters
those words
that rhythm,
that sticky
thought
of you.

runningturtle87