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The Tryst

06 May
You listen
to my rhythms, 
head reposed on my breast. 

Your flowering aroma calms me-- 
all my inhibitions dissolve. 
Our lips
provide a bridge for our tongues 
to weave.

Our fused breath
resuscitates-- we float.
We resonate
from the thrust of our intimacy. 

I was desolate on a desert isle 
before
you found me. 




 
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Posted by on May 6, 2021 in Poetry

 

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