Friday, 9 November 2012

The Cover




Beneath the wool blanket
you’ve wrapped  tight around
us, we are entwined, wound

lightly with skin brushing
skin. In the bed, breathing
together my fingertips

feather your nipples,
my tongue stippling your
lips as we kiss. Within

the shelter of night we
swelter with moving
as one might: I miss you.

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