12 thoughts on “With Two Whispers

  1. your skin, like blank paper,
    my tongue like zen paint bush
    writes a tale that evaporates
    into mist that dampens air
    we breath, you ask for more
    to ensure reality hasn’t also
    evaporated into your dream
    and waking, you will lose
    the tingling tenderness
    flooding your breathlessness

    Liked by 1 person

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