Monday, 6 July 2015

7.

A graze of sharp half moon nails
And suddenly our previous petty pride is put away

 Repel and Attract.
Like confused magnets our mouths hover... waiting.
our eyes meet
our hands shiver

 Like cogs and wheels whirring slow
Every twist and turn fits into me

Lock me in, give me your key.

No comments:

Post a Comment