To Swallow the Sun | Poems that Suck

 Your long, thin finger crept
                       like a spider
           up my inner thigh.
 
 "Stop," I hissed through my teeth;
                 a warning. 
 "No one's looking, no one cares."
                and you continued
 your journey up the pale length of my skin.
 
 The pads of your fingertips reached their
                   intended destination
 and I sighed with the delicious feel of them,
 
 as I gazed, heavy lidded, at the sea,
                    head tilted back,
 as if I were swallowing the sun.