MC ( / Isles of Scilly living in Barbados)


Just a dream of making love.
And yet
I feel the
soft of it,
the hard of it
the wet of it
the slip of it,
the slide of it
the scent of it
the rub of beard
on tender flesh
a subtle pain
that turns my closed to open
while nimble fingers flip
my off to on
push me to
the edge of it
the swell of it
the peak of it
the lazy afternoon of it
along my bones.
Eyes closed
my fingers see for me
and open eyes
are blinded
with sensation
drowning in the scent of you
the taste of you
the all embracing weight
of you against my skin,
hands fist, lips lock,
breath stops
as hearts heave,
beating tandem anthems,
pulses race in corded throats
stretched wide in glad thanksgiving
for the gentle touch of air
now that the wave has crashed,
has tumbled sweat strewn bodies,
loose limbed,
on a beach that is not there.

by Midnight Clarity

Comments (1)

Very beautifully and sensitively written with some memorable phrases: that turns my closed to open/while nimble fingers flip/my off to on. This is a gem.