Softly ruffled; her voice
breaking like equatorial tide
against my ear, my love
Tentatively closing on a body
quietly shivering (not with cold)
with anticipation
Wracked and closing loudly
as her breath hums tunes known well
the end is close, I’ve loved
All the while I listen for her
words pour out like treacle
my mind is alive with her games.
bujonswords 