She Eats Ranchero Chicken

She smiles and moans after every bite.

She eats alone and enjoys it.

Sometimes, she cuts a small piece and barely parts her lips sucking in the serving.

Sometimes, she tears off an amount I am not sure she can fit into her mouth with her unmanicured fingernails and playfully tosses it in her dark gaping salivating hole.

Her inconsistency makes me unstable.

A creamed nibble falls on her forearm.

She moves the mess to her mouth, and her tongue darts out and licks the blankness off her brown skin.

I can hear the tinny click as she drags her teeth down the fork’s prongs.

I want her to use her oral space more slowly.

I want to put my finger between her gap tooth grin.

Oh God, she orders another course.

My blood courses divergent paths to my cheeks and my loins.

I must feed her dessert.

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