Sunday, July 29, 2012

a low moan in the soft afternoon

the shine of sweat on dark breasts

as they heave in acquiescence

to the power that channels heat

through the body like the sun pulls

busy fluids through the stem of the flower

in the dark orchard shadows

a low moan in tune with all the sounds

of the late July day

oh my head throbs in palpable vision

drawn into eyes like a vortex in the waters

and all the titivating wildness of this soft afternoon

fills out all awareness in the white noise

following the falling away of climax..

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

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