
Our hotel window thrown open on the night
sirens rise and weave between our sighs
below, a city squeals in pleasure
Neon light spills across our pillows
We feel the force that has been forged
and binds our stories for all time
Pasts bundled into a suitcase
the lock spun, kicked beneath the bed
while we writhe and rise above
You touch yourself, then I touch you
We let the sheets slip to the floor
leaving nowhere for our desire to hide
A silver spark brightly arcs
connects my fingers and your thighs
welds your tongue tip to my throat
Like rain on glass we quickly merge
the beating rhythm, that low slow moan
so far beyond those ancient intimacies
The rest of our lives begin right here
The branches of our love in bloom
like cherry blossoms painting up the treesβ¦
[2021]
Thanks for reading.
π₯π₯π₯π₯π₯
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Thanks for reading Bree.
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Don’t forget to take time to see the city!
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Haha, very good advice Peter. I’ll pass it onto the lovers. Thanks for reading.
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Love this π€π€
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Thank you! βΊοΈ
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Always welcome my friend π€
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Wow wow wow!! You certainly know how to write passionately! You are gifted with the art of words.
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π Thank you Sam, I do like to inject a bit of fire in my writing from time to time. Keeps people on their toes. Thanks for reading.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Very kind π€©
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Always a pleasure to read and share your posts with followers, My Friend!! Have a great day!
ππβ¨β¨π
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Love the reading, and the background effects!
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Thanks for taking a listen Peter! I was busy recording a few poems yesterday ready to release them over the next few days. Seems like we’ve both been busy. π
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