The Easterly

when you're here
      i want to dance with you
hold you in my arms
      feel the rush of you,
your whispers in my hair.
      your breath carrying secrets
of the far-off ocean,
      your embrace ticklish
my clothes disheveled,
      my nostrils flared.

i can hear you now
    whispering jokes in the dark
you don't play favourites
    but i hear the she-oaks croon -
their shush a haunting siren

and i know you are among them.

(Pexel’s free images)

One thought on “The Easterly

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