Effing Love Poems: Flood & Flower

I drink you in

like desert sands;

my parched skin
is thirsty for a touch.
Your glance is rain.


To take 

my sand-paper tongue
across your flesh
for a trace of water;


to hope

for your moist kiss
on my lips of dry
river beds—


forbidden things.
I long for thunderheads,


but there will be no flood

or flowering.

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