Creamo

I must confess
whenever you sleep over
and leave your knickers
in my washing basket
before I put them in the wash
I pick them up
put the gusset to my face
and inhale deeply
that sweet, salty scent
still on the fabric
like it was all over my fingers
my wrist
my chin
my sheets
I can almost taste again
your hard little cherry
yielding under my tongue
your cheeks flushing
the most adorable shade of pink
as you arch your back.

Do you think I’m a little creep?
Ha.
Well, it’s true
I am.