Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCXXVIII
This week, post a poem of that isn't necessarily your favorite, but it's a favorite of those who read you. Winner is decided by likes and us. As usual, 25 bucks is paid to the winner. Go.
The cat who never got the cream
I can still hear the sharp acridity in your voice. The lemon-edged blade, bringing me to my brink -
But it's the syrupy tones of the aftermath that haunt me the most. The dulcet lick of your tongue, whipping words together like Chantilly cream. You're the cat, but I'm the one with my tail in between my legs; rolling over and surrendering my pink under-belly so you can scratch it and call me a good girl.