So I've been working on this poem... and it is something I have never written about. It's a little more on the risqué side, but I am always trying to experiment.
HEAVY BREATHING
Our flesh singed fresh
By the gruffing fit
Of our breaths.
In a limbo, aching
Delectably bare
No cloth to hide
Behind. Up front
Is the heat of our
Bodies dancing in
Tango.
Piece of wheat
In your palm, grinded
with the sweep
Of your thumb
Into a spiral of seeds.
JKP
