Temporal Lapse

As my fingers explore the ridges of your smooth back.
Dancing around the water droplets that scamper down your skin. 

My fingers become aquatinted with your yellow soaked hair. 

As I embrace you, the wet fabric flutters to the ground. 

Your lips become a capital, a lure drawing me in.
Only to evaporate in gas, mist, smog in the memory that is you. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s