Prose, I suppose?
Day’s warmth, winds play
night’s chill, body’s warmth
my breath, his felt
serenity as one, stillness amid fire
Scent of leaves crisp, air chilled
Time passes, forgotten by mind
ageless memories, fought sorrow
my lips, his kiss
Autumn brings chill, crisp, and early darkness. I yearn for his warm body as I brave the cold nights free; open; exposed of the winds and sharp fondle of Winter.
Other’s wish and crave spice of pumpkins - I only wish for more time and subtle touch of my hands to him. His lips, chest, back, love.
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