Pineapple

Pineapple

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.