Merciel

Alex pontificates on Romantic trivia
found on Wikipedia–
Kelly intercepts with a debate
about the latest vampire trend–
Joseph steers us back toward the discussion
but swerves into a religious rant–
Christina’s iPhone blasts Lil Wayne
a whole minute before she stifles it–
Mike wanders into fragments
in search of a point he swears he had–
I slither toward the crack in the chaos
with a comment saturated with scenery
Emily would’ve appreciated, but
before I pounce, Raquel cuts in first
with her honeysuckle tongue,
spins sugar-silkened syllables
that ravel my thoughts until I’m webbed
inside her hair, her hands, her face,
her scent, her voice, her taste.
I declare agreement to whatever she says–
she thanks me with a crimson crescent
that commands low tides to rise, famished eyes
to open wide and swallow every sight
of her left in the three weeks ahead.