thunderclap behind the eyes no time to count the stars that dance or should that be burning
brush me in a language unfamiliar like a splash of a kiss or smoke in the throat
tell myself what I think you would say know I wonβt soak in your roguish potion
Written: June 2019. Explanation: A short poem written in my own time - not my best to be honest. Feedback welcome as always. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.