Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
If I should pass by you on a warm summer’s eve when azure sky is a canvas, awash in soft hues would your eyes shimmer with tears, would you know it’s me?
Her voice rises in a fevered pitch and his a mellow timbre he cajoles to scratch her itch if she promises not to bitch.
Dawn’s pink rising on the horizon as you stir in our bed I turn and trace the tattoo long graceful fingers fluttering and dancing down to your core of heat as you stumble from sleep shaking the fog from the long night quaking and… Continue Reading “Dawn of Love”
He, once her lover, shattered all illusions of faith, stabbing her with the brevity of harsh words spewing from his forked tongue, and an utter lack of remorse on his handsome face.
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