Tenderness

When the mountains
have had enough of you
and send you home sore
and craving sleep
I want to be the balm
that covers you in the dark—
I want you supine beneath me
between my legs and inside
my soft wet warmth—
I want your eyes closed
and your only sensation
to be the slow and prolonged
ecstasy that I will draw out
of your body and into mine.

 

 

DeMaris
12-22-16

 

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