A Long Tryst

I am exhausted,
Utterly worn down,
ground down,
ground to dust.
I don’t need to be held
as much as inhaled.
Rolled in.
Dusted over your skin
after a long. hot. bath.
I want you
to walk about in the world
lightly scented,
with a fine, dry coating of
me all over
smoothing your skin

I want there to be nothing left
of me
when you get up
and dress again,
to play your vanishing act,
that’s what.

But you would blow all of the specks of dust back,
after going passed customs
in the end
by kissing my lips back into
beating life.

I think I could want that,
at length.

after a suitable amount of
mindless, selfless, repose
and all over you.


About bohemianmamameg

I'm a young, crazy, and busy mother of three girls. Check out the blog and see if we all make it.
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