Like the swooned flamingo
Fall clumsily
into my arms, soft bird.
Against me gently,
Your sleeping flesh
would push
and I would succumb
to your shape,
trapped by the bulbous density
of our peace,
And I,
I would bow to you.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
Like the swooned flamingo
Fall clumsily
into my arms, soft bird.
Against me gently,
Your sleeping flesh
would push
and I would succumb
to your shape,
trapped by the bulbous density
of our peace,
And I,
I would bow to you.
