Betsy Robin Schwartz

words unsaid

waiting

for you

to come

home

words unsaid

savored smooth

like Belgian chocolates

melted satin

in my mouth

like tart cherry stones

sucked sere

in my cheek

like hard lemon drops

soothing pungent

puckering my lips

like brushed enamel

fondled fresh

by my tongue

like minted breath

cleansed bright

opening my eyes

like honeyed hums

rolling ripe

on my palate

like Tyrolean yodels

captured silent

opening my throat

words unsaid

waiting

with an urge

to be let loose

to articulate

to lick

your

lobes