The Flavor of Ambition

Pour the moonlight down my throat

And let her elixir soothe my parched lips

When the firefly of delight searches for its kin I hope I haven’t burrowed the counterpart glow worm too deep in my belly where she can’t be seen

Let me bite down into summer’s golden fleshy fruit

Let its nectar run down the sides of my lips,

trickle past my chin,

grow sticky on my throat,

stain my collar as proof of my passion

And maybe if I cut my bared teeth on the pit of earth’s prime,

my hopes will gather enough grit to burst beyond dreams.