Originally published in Target Magazine (circa, 1994, Los Angeles, CA

SWEET BREAD

her looseness made her hot;

you knew it was hot,

when you put it in your mouth;

rolled it quickly over your tongue,

savoring its warm juices, feeling

its nakedness climb over you.

her bite was worse than her bark;

her beach was never closed;

she never closed the cover before striking;

never was harmful when swallowed;

never bought a lick of insurance,

she'd rather roller blade than drive.

her love was endless,

and when it boiled over,

she smelled so good,

you had to put your mouth on her;

and when your mouth was on her,

she let you know in no uncertain terms,

that she wanted you there,

kneading, her soft, wet dough;

licking, her rich, red cherries,

you could clock her by the moon,

bake sweet bread in her oven;

but you could never park in her space;

it was always, peddle to the metal,

top down, running flat out;

her hair, blown back over her head,

begging you,

 "Touch me,  here, and here;

kiss me, here. and here."

and 

she was worse than bad, there

wasn't anything she wouldn't 

do twice;

and 

she was worse than bad, she

believed everything came 

in threes;

and 

she was worse than bad, she

ruined you, for any other woman you'd

ever have.

Kim L Sellers

sellers_kim@hotmail,com

 http://onemyth.blogspot.com