unquenchable thirst

 
in the basin languishes
the pulp and tendrils
of a potent sangria
made with naked giggles
too much wine, not enough fruit
drank from an old chipped cup
poured over breasts
consumed by women adept
at the pleasure of women
loath to uncouple
dusk skewing shadow and light
their disembodied satisfaction
slowly unraveled an
unquenchable thirst
and in the gloaming once more
deeply they drank
.
.
.
.
written for Poefusion Friday 5
Advertisements

passionately

why can’t i

turn and face you

caress your cheek

slide my fingers

into your hair

pull you into me

and kiss you

tentatively

gently

firmly

passionately

breathlessly