Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Down the Eaves
curled up on the porch
my cheek resting upon my
tear-soaked hands
the rain pounding down the roof
and yet
all I can think about is
the sound of your voice
caressing me and
how I long to feel your body
pressed against my skin and
your fingers threading in my hair
as our lips
clash and join and mold together
our tongues thrusting
slithering
our breath in
ragged gasps and sighs
flesh upon flesh
sliding together
as easily as
the rain slips noiselessly
down the eaves
©️tara caribou – 2018
13 Comments on “Down the Eaves”
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So strong and compelling! Really, really well done!
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Thank you Bill. That means the world to me.
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So nicely done! Hope you are having a wonderful Friday!
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it’s simple and romantic and dripping with longing. nice.
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Thank you Mike. I live my days with longing and desire. A doomed romantic.
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that makes two of us. and i bet most of the writers and readers here as well. we need to start a micronation.
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Not a bad idea.
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I have one every six months.
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Nice and romantic, with that being a compliment, without calling it such…
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Thanks Wayne. You’re always too kind.
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a reminder often of the disparity of physical and emotional …
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Yes, I agree. Thanks for this.
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The missing
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