An Imagined EncounterA Poem by Becca
Steam.
The air is thick with it. I move away Sweetly, your voice pulls me back to the present. To you. I turn my black, Close my eyes to catch my breath. There you are again. You catch it for me. Do I want to be here? An empty promise. Warm eyes, skin... tongue.
© 2012 Becca |
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Added on October 12, 2012 Last Updated on October 12, 2012 Author |