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By Laurel Ahlfeld Date: 2008 Nov 20 Comment on this Work [[2008.11.20.13.36.11004]] |
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The bitter sting of morning's breath Nips at my exposed feet Which have somehow escaped Past their blanketed boundary Vulnerable to the chill Biting me into wakefulness Toes retract into their shelter Aimlessly wandering To your side of the bed Lingering in disappointment Longing to be warmed By the feverish backs Of your calves and thighs Intertwined in a clasp of passion I sigh I miss you -And so do my toes |