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Dark And Hungry
Dark and hungry,
i grope for your mouth,
swallowing lava burnt air,
lips blistered with prayer.
ducks quacking in flight,
Nickels and dimes in the ashtray...
a song on the radio,
cant remember the name.
hands shake just a little,
unbuttoning your shirt.
a small trail of sweat
between your breasts disappears.
You breathing in gasps,
or not breathing at all....
slide my hand to your longing,
tilt your head, close your eyes...
Grey clouds on the horizon,
miles go by without markers...
two horses in the pasture
not yet victims to time.
poem
by
Eric Cockrell
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