intrigue goes with any picnic
You were in my dream
we were walking along
a rocky little pocket of big pebble sand
we had to crawl down through
bramble-d sumac to reach
you said we only have
a small window
to breach heaven
between us, folding
and tucking away
your tide chart
the Sun was setting
Clair de Lune getting
on replaying dusty memories
we say nothing
we dive right in
we became
feasted feasted
breasted beast-ed
we became
breathless sea
tongue landers
we became
pulse and wrist kisses
fabric destinies
dirty knees, sandy pleas
Love, you cried
is this immediacy
and never anything less
we rested
bitten sated
gloaming
eaten in too
slip silk dark velvet
covering us a star fall come sky
an ocean begging to climb
back home against
us, shimmied down to
our bare essential being
rite where we needed be
eaten in too
slip silk dark velvet
covering us a star fall come sky
an ocean begging to climb
back home against
us, shimmied down to
our bare essential being
rite where we needed be
when you packed
the hiking lamp headbands
on a gloriously sunny afternoon
i had no idea what you were up
or were going to be into
intrigue goes with any picnic
i said, smiling as we shimmied
back up through the brambles
on home, another scent poem
EJR ©
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