Dusk
Exploration—
The gold-sprayed grass
Midnight swing
Stray hair
In pale
Melancholy,
Let me hold
Your hand,
As gravity swells
Beneath bedsprings—
Chain-link,
Planted in eternity
Housewives of
The winter—
Brown leaves in
Snapshots
Hanging on
The wall—
Utter
Words of
Touch,
A bit more
Of the much
Insidious
Clutch—
Talk
Vivid, don’t—
Stop,
The gentle
Breeze
From parted lips
Split falling
Our chests settle
Wayward,
Rosy display
Of humility.
Exhale.
Ahhhhh
ReplyDelete(me exhaling)
Erotic and lovely...
ReplyDeleteNice...thanks for stopping by.
ReplyDelete