A Naughty Aubade, Sonnet #6

By Boinkaz

the exhalation of the morning hills

beaded breath of sweat splashed across your back

furry dice our weather, fog speckled dots

time for us 2 grind, 2 tectonic plates

our bones crack in the knuckle of the sun

our liquids rise as kisses, moans & fissures

through miasmas of open mouths pour

small dogs of pleasure on spittled leashes

After, I explore maps of your terrain

tsk the stripping by earlier miners

frown on politics that let that happen

as we shrink within our movable skin

rise and pay homage to new kith and kin

a thrill that from cards of defeat we’re dealt

new love on this table of springtime felt.

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

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