A Place

she murmurs, she sighs,
a brine-steeped zephyr,
her voice is a cry
that calls out to me
across the miles,
to a place she cannot see,
to a place she cannot be

twisted roads and alleys,
grassy hills
and green valleys,
lay down a protective cover
to separate she and I
like a jealous lover–
or an overprotective brother

she comes to me in dreams,
sunlight and starlight,
a reflected wet succubus gleam
that rolls wild and free
I yearn for her liquid embrace,
to return to a place I cannot see,
to a place I cannot be

Photo from Pixabay

34 thoughts on “A Place

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