This silent space at
the edge of life,
somewhere between, the
sleep & twilight, when all
of existence is
questioned and slight,
that is where the
exquisite dwells; wrapped and bound
with every cell,
breathed into being by
the rushing in shells,
collected
from a distant
shore… Now, more
than ever before,
a dream-scape in sand
and these sheets,
entwined across the
hips of sleek, and salted,
summer skin,
the sound of
heartbeat, drawing
in, and the scent of
pleasures just spent;
paid like pennies for
candy floss,
sweet, and soft and tickled
across, tender
and sun-caressed
curves, moving just as
graceful as
the fluttering,
early birds, so fresh,
and glistening,
like morning dew;
a long embrace denies,
the sunrise-golden hue of the horizon,
the halo cast aloft…
No matter, in night
and devilish things,
we are still too lost.
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