The Piecemeal Man (abmann) wrote,
The Piecemeal Man
abmann

Awash in ardor.
It is the lonely man's bane
to let stasis set.

-

Naked in the sea,
we soothe distance with the tide.
Lilies in a pond.

-

Dark amber syrup,
I shall lick it from your breast.
Resplendent woman.

-

Chasing through the sedge.
We, fleet foot and shrinking clothes,
giggle like the wind.

-

Where goes the firefly
when the night shifts into day?
They become the sun.

-

Tantilizing flesh.
I remember the peaches
of your softened lips.
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