High Coos
In the deaf, mute dark,
I whisper, “Yes, O’Hurry…”
My pulse travels south.
When it gets painful,
fingers relieve the pressure,
watermelon juice.
Your earbuds are in,
dreams adrift in your book as
I manifest mine.
3 thoughts on "High Coos"
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Hawt damn, child.
Clever…love the title!
The title drew me in. Nicely done!