Haunted by the memory of your touch on my flesh
Trickling water over your shoulder blades running over the place by your hips I like to kiss.
Midnights are for lovers but so is five and six am as day breaks and I’m still enamoured within the area code where sound escapes your lips one last time before I gather my things and go.
Bidding Adieu.  
©rhetoricalcuriosity