Nipple

I begin in your womb, rolled up I look up the slope above your body's rugged terrain, a scorching ascent. In the depth of your navel I pause, imagining the route until the perfect dome, like a valley of peace, to succumb at the edge aureola perfect of your heart. Then I'll suck it ambrosia and saliva until you arrive with me to the sensual peak. Women who give milk to your hungry man.