writing

upward

from being pressed
his arms lengthen
and arc on either side,
my own secretive cross
there above me.
red hair swings up
to meet the wall.
mouths form falling crescents
warm focused breath
lights a trail from
my cheek to my neck
his hands find the hollow
as he finds it with
no hands
and his luscious eyes
all the while
over-looking.

~ Andrea E. Janda

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