The Fog

lake-bled-slovenia-by-marko-trebusakFog hovers; paints;

strokes; color into skin.

Warmth as the morning sun,

a gentle dew, Is where it all began.

Explosive nerves;

eruption; corruption;

passion consumes restraint;

fingers paint;

ecstasy into the soul;

where kisses lose control; hands scroll;

grab, gash, grip, grope

the purity;

the hope;

devour, empower,

the need;

the ache;

within wherein,

blood pumps, throbs, sins;

as lips begin and two lovers collapse in a grin,

stripped, licked, sipped,

drunk like shots of gin,

intoxicated; fixated;

until that urge is sedated;





an urge, a surge,

where two bodies merge

emotions let go,

release; carnal feast;

hypnotic, erotic, vignette

sewn without regret,

psychotic pleasures,

hidden treasures,

into the fog,

two lusted lovers;


that the fog; will always hover


*lake photo was taken from the Internet
**repetitive photos ~ADayDreamWriter

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