bask in the
11 PM
humid June air
with me,
our skin
soaking up the ivories
of Luna's glow
and the stars
sinking into your pores,
leaving my hands
scorched
from their touch.
silver clouds
rising in the sky
holding back their tears,
husky grumbles of thunder
in the distance;
these storms
are nothing,
compared to the things
you start in me.




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