Brush
strokes fading
Down
my backs’ change.
I
cannot force us backwards
Rather,
I will summon our art
Into
the fine lines of our lives.
Crafting
my neck around
Your
black tones;
I
am complete.
heat beats
heartbeats in my palms with tiger sky skin and tanned eyes with red clouds. heaven sent another angel and Zen breathed again. love slathe...
