Smack the Thai mushrooms
of my buttocks, the scented starfish,
my cloak of confectioner’s leaves!
Your teeth tear the skin off my nape
beating in front of the abyss
of my wet thoughts, your flash erotica
pulling kisses off the pulp of my lips
to the rhythm of a cha-cha-cha.
Rumble my ass with fingers like Ismael Rivera’s,
round and sweetened pineapple.
Interlace the redolence of your molasses
to remind me it’s Christmas.