Your skin, slick with sweat,
Burns where it meets mine,
Which feels to be every piece of me.
It reminds me of the summers sun;
I lay still, afraid you'll fall away,
Your blazing fires with it.
Instead I sit and ponder;
It feels good to be under
Summers harsh heat once more.
My own flesh grows hot,
Blood rushes to give color
To my failing parlor -
I've gone pale, but you!
You've saved me from becoming weak
With your self ignited fires,
Warming me from within.
Lips fall open, tongue is held..
A thank you slips out.
Do I ever miss summers scorching sun..
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
Your skin, slick with sweat,
Burns where it meets mine,
Which feels to be every piece of me.
It reminds me of the summers sun;
I lay still, afraid you'll fall away,
Your blazing fires with it.
Instead I sit and ponder;
It feels good to be under
Summers harsh heat once more.
My own flesh grows hot,
Blood rushes to give color
To my failing parlor -
I've gone pale, but you!
You've saved me from becoming weak
With your self ignited fires,
Warming me from within.
Lips fall open, tongue is held..
A thank you slips out.
Do I ever miss summers scorching sun..
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