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Drifting

I’m not sure what it was -

we tumbled to the matress

and our bodies fell limp.

I felt gimp;

curled in a ball,

you tucked within

and us all alone.

we were quiet.

we were soft.

we drifted off

on our make-shift raft

keeping each other warm

against the cracked window’s draft.

 

An hour later-

as if five minutes -

we both washed back ashore.

 

we made sighs of relief,

grunts of approval

and I was reminded again

of all the love between us.

and I looked at my hands

thinking I should wash them -

but the ink stains remain

from writing about you time and time again.

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Written by
matthew-cuellar
American
Published
Jun 27, 2010
Lines·Words
24·110
Notes

Written By Matthew Cuellar

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