Ruining the Sheets

Naked in the hot back yard
we slice fat strawberries.
Our fingers drip with juice.
We layer berries and sugar
in the heavy old brown bowl
to stew in the summer sun.

When they swim like wantons
in their basking-bowl
we finger-scoop them up
to feed each other's silly grins,
float them on each other's tongues,
drip them over chins and breasts.
I perch one on your collarbone.
You scribe syrup on my belly.

When we can eat no more
you smear a handful
up and down my chest.
I kiss hot strawberries
over your mouth and mound
your syrupy strawberried
nipples. We cannot kiss
for laughing, and then we
cannot laugh at all for kissing.

Our fingers tangle sticky-sweet.
We run indoors to ruin the sheets.

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