Trail of love
Skin deep
Of the heart
Banging soul.
Nearly a kiss –
Making love in reverse,
Head fuck.
Lust festering
In a wound so open
It eats itself clean,
And then love begins again,
Filling spaces.
You twirl
All brown and green
And sparks.
Lush as outside
By your side.
I watch your eyes turn
From wet to dry,
Praying for rain.
Moistness sets alight
The orange walls
And your eye-liner.
Love lingers and floats
With the Nag Champa incense stick.
It’s best that way.

Picture by Sharon Mccutcheon (Unsplash)

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