"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Thursday, May 26, 2011

A Nervous Encounter.

A moment
of throbbing fear.
A million hammers
in my throat,
chest,
heart.
Your heavy
bated breath too close,
cold fingers
creeping up my back
as moist lips
whisper what I know.
I brought this on,
yet I never
wanted it.

2 comments:

"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."