Fingers warm against my abdomen
a Raclette, burning and dripping sweat,
and I need to melt yet, against
the hardest parts of Greco-Roman.
Bodies release like Swiss cheese
scraped off you into my roundest bits,
permanently pressed cheese sandwiches;
the pungent smell of release.
Oh, how sublime, the ancient rind,
curving splendor, a fountain sip
of perfectly paired white wine lips,
roasting flames with your gooey hips;
I love you best when unrefined.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Nicely done. Love the imagery.
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Thank you. Cheese makes everything better, no?
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I agree about the imagery. This took me back to early evening soirees in France with the raclette bubbling.
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It’s what I’m hoping for in Switzerland this upcoming weekend.
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I love a good raclette!
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Thanks you, Hobbo.
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Love this!! 😁😁🖤
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Not too cheesy, then? 🧀
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You can never have too much cheese! 😉🖤
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[…] about cheese, I should probably have a separate category about it. I’ve attached a link to Raclette Romance, another cheesy piece. […]
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