Ragged Claws

Moist on fingers,
scent on tongue;

your muscles tightening,
all of me undone:

I could die now, love,
slowly dissolving in song.

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 28th, 2006 at 4:42 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.