July 14, 2024

As the sun bids farewell above

the chorus of birds die down,

we’re sprawled upon the fields

singing sonnets and reciting history

 

She nestles in the curve of my neck

hands begin roaming around

clinging as our bodies weave

slowly melding with the earth 

 

I trace a finger along her skin

a coat of pink adorns her cheeks

her breathing in tune with mine

half-asleep in a bed of wildflowers

 

The grass beneath comes alive

and the morning light beckons

leading me to waltz in her graces

beyond the gaze of divine scrutiny

 

I say a prayer of thanks

for this patch of land to worship

to dwell and savor the fruit

in a tapestry of our shared sins

 

Piece by Jannaya Barrion

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