"The Chocolate Chip Waffle"
Consent
Like a yard of green silk,
unroll me on the kitchen table.
Smooth your fingers over my flowers.
Gather my corners to the center,
bury yourself in the folds.
Iron my pleats with steam hot breath.
Pull me taut until I divide,
and your hands hold only silken threads.
Devour me until your fingers,
ten tongues,
are raw with my texture.
Embed me in your rose garden hands.
And remember there's tomorrow
left yet to cultivate.
--Terresa Wellborn
