Our tongues met
before our lips
spoke.
Our bodies familiar
to the pleasure
only strangers
can remember
in forgetting
convention.
And now adrift
from an afternoon
on the island of sun
and sensation.
An unexpected storm
punishes our boat and my body
rowing from the lightning licking
at your naked laughter
that smells of sex and smoke.
© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)
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| Boat in storm |
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