Indian Summer

I am silk, red as the surface of your

Scalding tongue, I slide out eel-like

And primeval, a beguiled heart

Regurgitated post-orgasm. Every time

You see a bonfire, I hope that you’ll think

Of the moment I fell in love. The way I

Danced breasts bare, sibilate champagne

Spilling over a plastic cup, like the

Indian summers of an unattainable youth

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18 thoughts on “Indian Summer

  1. Yes! The images are wonderful, smoothly joined and vivid. The ‘feel’ of this one is a mix of passion and revulsion, but the sparks fly through magnificently!

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