Ode to a birthmark

When I slide my lips down your neck,
your shoulders encase little shrubberies
Of beige, brown, and ash color treats
I long to plant my mouth in them all night
To feel the tender, beloved aberrations
What would I not give to bask in
my little orchard of peace and perfection
My dreams are wet with suckling on
your sweet decadent piece of confection
To think my love that beauty and charm
Are locked in so many wondrous things in nature
That gifts from the universe are hidden
In the unlikeliest places, and I found mine
under your shirt, near your heart