All the words we would share
are spoken in the pressure
of our fingerprints on the others skin
Those grasping, whispering fingers
rubbing me with her menthol syllables.
and as this bomb goes off;
with this shotgun announcement
of our devotion to this moment;
will the candle wax clutching her skin
or the scorched air in her lungs ever
be closer to her than i am now?
Gorgeous!
I’m in luv with your intensity.
Hey,
Thanks for stopping by and leaving the comment!
Lovely writing yourself
I’ll be sure to stop by now and then…
whoa! very powerful!