Stirring of the coals

In a skull white winter
battened down under ripple glass sky
your soft lipped promise
stirred the coals
torrid embrace
bone to bone
love lashed to the roaring iron
we did not fear the fallow days
nor judgement of lust
nor seed that forges the seasons
just within the covers
settled in the darkness
flower to the breast
in scented repose
sing me a rhyme
'til tomorrow cuts the dawn
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2020
About this poem:
Winter lust

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