Constellations

 

Time of silk scraping and delicate shallows, kisses like bee stings, the ripple of air is too much for the breathing, the taste of her flesh is too rich for the blood

Flow tresses like rainfall in cool draughts unlasting, starlight strikes beaming through shadows of doubt, prey slinks through the brush of her mind’s tangled weaving

Sprays of sweet sangre within lips cracked by wanting, desires a fortune of cares without hope, in passing we touch with our magnets and fingers and gazes long gone

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