Slake -XLIX-

Slake

Sweat
trickled down
the soft curve
Of
The small of her back
Her
Eyes were empty
No, she couldn’t see
Dazed, glazed gaze, he
Held her incomplete, thirsting spirit
Just as tightly
As she did
And
Just on a whim
She bent down
Equally fierce
Equally dim

Parched
With desire
She drank
From him

‘Messages Off a Cigarette’
©CM
21.04.2015

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4 thoughts on “Slake -XLIX-

  1. Madsies says:

    Passionate!

    Like

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