Covenant

My covenant,

should you choose to stay:

the juice of an orange

broken free from its flesh

running a tart rivulet,

crisp blue mornings

under Egyptian cotton sheets,

sweaty, limp limbs

plaited under a black silk sky,

a kiss…mixed with new rain,

bodies carried

across alabaster tipped waves,

golden sand

to mould under

scarlet painted toenails.

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4 thoughts on “Covenant”

There are two things I know for certain. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: I want to hear your opinion.

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