Metaphor

Last night I ran into your metaphor
posturing at Positano’s spangled leather bar
adjacent to the chalice filled with lemons infusing themselves with vodka
for those potent limoncello martinis the establishment’s so rightly famous for

and it winked and beckoned me to sit

bought me a double crystal portion of luscious yellow haze

reached its long arm around my waist and hip

pulled me in along its length until our curves and angles fit

reached down   cupped its capacious palm to capture half my derriere

guffawed and said

Call me conceited but I do intend to penetrate your words
Just spread your thighs and knees a bit more   Let me sing in you