Written for:  The Sunday Whirl #228

Words:  night, unravel, flight, visible, beg, fringe, file, exist, speak, current, terrain, already

You know this night
terrain. Do not take
flight; I will not bite.
Feel that current running
through your body? File it
under lust. Your mind
will not unravel like
a skein. I am not
a beggar–you are not
a thief. Speak to me
in that husky voice
I love. Above, the moon’s
face is already visible,
winking. Stay with me
and we will exist
on the fringe, have a binge
of outlaw sex.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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