. . . m a g i c s o f a . . .

. . .

Breath

I'd say you take my breath away
If I didn't give it anyway
If I didn't know you'd give me yours
Of course
The frozen hail crushed between the treads of our boots
melts onto the rug
almost half as fast as we melt into the bed
after feasting on bowed cuddles and wine and bread
You touch me as deeply as the ocean is dark
While I watch cinders float smokily behind iris emeralds
I slip down into shivering warmth
hold me, hold me
sliding taxing tongue embraced by legs
and flowers
We don't care how many hours fall in the river
soaked
and tasting of moss
and earth

. . .

(written 2/14/19)

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