Night Swimming .

Night Swimming.

Surrounded by the softness, revealed in your repose,
That contradict the angles of your form.
My fingers seek those sensuous zones;
These hollows hold the heat of you, the heart of you; the you of you.

It’s 3 am, Sunday morning. I’m poised upon the brink.
Do I fall? And if I fall, will you be falling too?
I listen to your purring; soporific snores.
That wake a yearning deep inside and leave me wanting more.

And as I drop I taste the tang of iodine,
Of salt soaked skin
And the essence of the the winter river,
Caught in the curls of your hair.

One Response to Night Swimming .

  1. Pingback: Night Swimming . | Notes From The Village

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