deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bowing the strings.
At last, night fall.
A heavy breeze thickens.
Bodies like waves,
we rise and fall.
Tangled in sheets,
our own curtain call.
A small flame flickers,
in the corner casting shadows.
Of two lovers mending,
showing the curve of their backbones.
A submissive darkness,
touched only by heat.
A desperate affection
of bowing the strings.
A heavy breeze thickens.
Bodies like waves,
we rise and fall.
Tangled in sheets,
our own curtain call.
A small flame flickers,
in the corner casting shadows.
Of two lovers mending,
showing the curve of their backbones.
A submissive darkness,
touched only by heat.
A desperate affection
of bowing the strings.
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