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Pocket of ice
I shake at the thought
of you inside me
Your cold cold fingers
which had once pressed against me hot
I shake at the thought
I shake at the thought
of you inside me
Your cold cold fingers
which had once pressed against me hot
I shake at the thought
Wow, the implied backstory of
Wow, the implied backstory of this poem . . . the whole experience of reading this poem is rather eerie, and therefore very successful! You pack so much into such a few lines; the art of compression is always a classic sign!
Starward
Humbled
Thank you, Starward!
Copyright © JessterStarshine
Most certainly welcome.
Most certainly welcome.
Starward