Fourteen
Classically gray day
pre Spring trees
cast in silouhette.
Sitting in shadow
side by side
behind the wall,
one of them
puts right
hand above left
knee of the other,
slides palm slowly up.
Heartbeats. Ticktock breath.
Feels flesh soften,
moisten, smooth.
One looks ahead.
The other eyes over,
downward. A parting of thighs.
Future waits.
Mysteries near solving.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
