My hand locks into yours
the same way I taste under my tongue,
parted and warm,
humming while your lips press
with quiet insistence against your heart.
I crawl inside its steady beat,
(just the summer,
sloping hills and white stucco)
lying between the hours,
your forearms tense with habit.
The white Jetta's
an uneven cavalcade of
windows rolled down, my thighs
melt bare, and
the sun burns slow and thorough
through dusk.
The tide pulls away
the thick New England sky.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
My hand locks into yours
the same way I taste under my tongue,
parted and warm,
humming while your lips press
with quiet insistence against your heart.
I crawl inside its steady beat,
(just the summer,
sloping hills and white stucco)
lying between the hours,
your forearms tense with habit.
The white Jetta's
an uneven cavalcade of
windows rolled down, my thighs
melt bare, and
the sun burns slow and thorough
through dusk.
The tide pulls away
the thick New England sky.
Entropy: lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder
