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A Midnight Canvas

Slowly he stirs her,

strokes her cheek feather light,

softly rouses her roaming eyes

from under lid.

They open slowly,

like heavy blinds.

 

He shines into her,

a shadow in the soft spotlight

of the moon, body bare

but beautiful as it hovers over her.

 

She takes a long breath,

so close to his lips she can

taste salt from summer heat

and he waits, he waits for her

hands to slide down his back,

fingers to bind into trenches of flesh,

toes to curl and coo in anticipation.

 

He brushes her lips with his,

paints a path of purple,

red, and blue down her torso.

 

She smiles and nuzzles her nose

into his neck, happy to be a canvas

long into morning.

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Written by
stacy-del-gallo
Published
Jul 13, 2010
Lines·Words
23·123
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