Lips and fingers, shuttered glance -
click, quick lick extinguished.
(I’m sure it’s wrong to view this as impending beauty)
He turns - avoids tide-salt breeze made
fast by alleyway and dark.
Again - click, quick lick. Hand’s a shield,
spark’s hidden, can still feel it.
(Behind closed-door words fly; heard and unheard)
We're here, lost and found inside his ritual.
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 6:13 AM UTC
Lips and fingers, shuttered glance -
click, quick lick extinguished.
(I’m sure it’s wrong to view this as impending beauty)
He turns - avoids tide-salt breeze made
fast by alleyway and dark.
Again - click, quick lick. Hand’s a shield,
spark’s hidden, can still feel it.
(Behind closed-door words fly; heard and unheard)
We're here, lost and found inside his ritual.
