you radiate.
with the friction
it’s unbearably
warm. we curl up
we touch knees
I think of all the times I’ve done this with other people
no one.
now back to back
my spotted touches your perfect white
The fiction, prose and poems of Winston Holden Baker
1 comment:
I loled at the "no one" part.
Fellow LUEser btw.
Visit my site if you want: PressZ.org.
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