Painting Neon
your hip
is that last curve home
with an Armageddon
crimson sunset full blast
gold dripping
across the leaves
just like
the magnetic forces of the earth
that guide birds
on the way home
my fingers follow
the traces of heat
to your
horizon of palms in the blazing
sun with salted lips
rimmed with my name
drink in your gaze
and bathe in the tension
the being next to you
pretending to be calm and collected
knowing what we really are
entangled vibrations
a chorus now now now
and a single fevered drive
right on the edge
because
baby
we’re
80’s
forever
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pretending to be calm and collected
knowing what we really are
entangled vibrations
a chorus now now now
and a single fevered drive
right on the edge
The intimacy of this poem is so engaging. It drew me into the poem. Thank you so much for sharing this.