Night thighs hot and humid
pores piqued with tingles;
fingers pace themselves
with streaks down the middle
as mine eyes playfully feast
under the fullness of the moon,
glistening hills and valleys
of fine art that is all of you.
Climatic laughter rested beside us,
as thoughts steered to pretend
a faint quivering of my lips
whispered "love" under its breath,
with "you" and "I" at each end.
Tomorrow will we still remain friends?
DionWorx
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.