Midnight Crossing

                    Last night as the quarter moon slipped
                    from its perigean crouch to sprawl spent
                    beneath the folds of her bed’s far sheets,
                    what stiff wind plunged down between
                    her outspread thighs to lightly tease her
                    secret hooded silver tip without awakening
                    but steady enough to deepen her breathing
                    into smiles she will give tomorrow’s noon?
                    Some will say she was only metaphor
                    and not see the lights his touch revealed.
                    Some will think he was only dream
                    and miss the changes her body decides.
                    Some will think them only an accidental
                    midnight crossing of two not meant
                    to be one remembered expected.


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2 Responses to Midnight Crossing

  1. Frances D says:

    Now that’s a sexy poem 😉

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