Dress Lashes

Dress Lashes

Coy slicks her. Both hands
cup her sacred as water,

reed over her,
rolling through warm currents

in the burn of fluorescents
in the still of morning

her eyes reach out, she slips hot
breath over her lover’s tongue

curls a fan of hand behind a kiss
scaled neck. Sky falls through the window,

on the nightstand, dress lashes,
flutter brilliant orange.

First published in Red River Review, 2011.


Comment the hell outta this

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s