deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Itch

Fushia tones flush adrenaline
Rich and thickly under tongues
Turning them unwelcomely dry
A cord in your neck augments
So perceptible with it's taut ticking
And I would arch my own to
Taste your salt
Above it's beat
If only coaxed...
For my capillaries cavort beneath shy cheeks
Under my umber summer spots
Freckles kindled flush to betray thoughts
I prefer to tightly keep
Hidden...
But your pupils protract
As if to embrace all of me
Extracting evidence my epicurean cues tattled

//

Lush air suspends "friends"
Heavy (indeed, nearly heaving) with alternate goals
Craving to blend their loose ends
Consciences stroked by infatuated illicit themes
Estimating tender ends to dreams
Rending friendzone fences at the seams
Written by AtoMikbomb
Published | Edited 30th Sep 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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