The brittle moonlight gleamed through ragged mist,
You slipped ahead, though not beyond my reach.
Glanced back and touched my cheek. We never kissed.
Then waking in a warm, yet vacant bed,
As children's laughter echoes out-of-doors,
My head echoes with words we left unsaid:
Approaching footsteps - they cannot be yours.
An aftermath of silent sound is heard,
I listen to your voice - it seems unclear,
Though through the mist I see you, undeterred
Your hand slips into mine, I do not fear.
This sentiment of lust with such fervour,
Reiterating lust, I’ve felt before.
« return.