Forty Years

Your name rests upon my lips
Gentle and delicate
And completely at home
Breathing out, you become a whisper
Breathing in, you intoxicate me
Whispers and heady rushes cascade
Across my skin
I’ve become alive and real
Swallowing you, my belly swells
For you are my manna and sweet honey
I am completely satisfied by you
And I now have no more reason to wander


tara caribou | ©2019-2022

Read more like this in my books four and euphoria in blue [dreams]

16 Comments on “Forty Years

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Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

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