Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2012
Your thumb a deep oval
at the base of my neck, still smoothing
fingers snake and entrap coils of my hair.
My love my person my someone
he presses so gently as we burn
but to freeze for a moment,
eyes two parallel solar lamps.
Then groan, holding onto his head
as we, in slow motion, escape.
maggie s
Written by
maggie s
641
     Lior Gavra and RMatheson
Please log in to view and add comments on poems