2011-24

Love is a summer afternoon,
the whir of a ceiling
fan, your instep pressed
against my calf. Love is
the slick of sweat down
our skin, your scent
tangled in my brain and
in the sheets, my hand
trembling in the heated
arc of your back.




Poetry by Minhocao
Read 405 times
Written on 2011-07-17 at 17:44

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