Hot Stuff

Hot Stuff

When love was only very young

we sipped hot soup that scalds the tongue

we barely know how so which we feel

or what in truth it will reveal

we’d kissed the boys who kissed the girls

that run our fingers through your curls

from deep within fire snatch fiery sticks

shall flickering blow on embered tips

we twirl the sparklers of our eyes

grip patterns fast before they die

fading bright they indelible weave

our midnight hearts with sorrow leave

spit on scalding iron and it hisses

remind you both of budding kisses

blisters once the yearning builds

pounding pulse be not never stilled

darling dreams of what could be

burn to think of what we’ll see

tremble fingers on sticky lingers

gasp for air to breathe sighing cinders

scorch your mouth on chocolate sweet

slow build our thud thumping beat

we strike the match then brief touch tip

undo the clasp and pull the zip

when love was only very young

cups boil over eager and begun

lying back still lie can’t get enough

ah yes - but oh, that hot hot stuff.