She picks the spoon up into the air
All we can seem to do is stare
She dips down in an arc so steep
Drags it through the the food so deep
She scoops some onto the utensil she uses at that time
Lifting it to her lips should be a sin and a crime
She glances up as her lips slightly part
Her face a beautiful work of art
The spoon passes between those luscious lips
Food passes from the spoon to the tongue as it tips
She drags it slowly out of her mouth
To restart that deep arc south
Over and over we watch with our eyes
Waiting for the spoon to go back up on the rise
