Sunday, June 12, 2011

Drinking

the slight of chartreuse
lightly brushing our skin with a tender kiss:
heat. on our cheeks
in our hearts as well
a smile
just as bright.
a rush of ice,
in our veins it lingers
if only to stem the tides of circumstance.
the rose, curled lips of a flower
as on the wind
they form a song, only for us.
drink up.

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