2010s · All the Tiny Anchors · Poetry

Last Hour of 37

Just before midnight, I lay under
the Palms Springs sky
on silver-blue foam in a
saltwater pool with the edge
of your tongue and curves
of your long fingers pulling
me towards your liberation
of my body from
the taut strings of
my bathing suit
around my neck.

First published in one sentence poems.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s