June 8 torrid air a salve
the body oblique
to a buoyed cadence—
up from the horizon line
waves a love-soaked sun—
fever in ripples,
& salt on our tongues—
can you feel the warmth brimming
with the sapor of brine?
the body oblique
to a buoyed cadence—
up from the horizon line
waves a love-soaked sun—
fever in ripples,
& salt on our tongues—
can you feel the warmth brimming
with the sapor of brine?