Taste

It's 1:45 pm and I can still taste your lust on my face;
the scent of copper and musk.
Mornings are the best time to feast on the sins of passion,
the tangy flavor of our mortal souls battling our desires.
There is little time for inhibitons that shiver in fear
of consuming fire ignited by our heat.
After we're spent, and morning light bathes us,
we'll find time to remember that daily life has arrived.
Somehow we'll survive it, because we have the taste of us
lingering, heavenly on our lips; passion's kiss burnt there.