08-19-2014, 01:13 PM
The tempest has finally weakened,
remnants of the storm lingering
in the open-air room.
Hard flesh is kneaded to softness
as anger and doubt briefly yield
to tenderness and desire.
The proverbial calm returns too soon
and begins its cycle once more,
a stifling heat settling over bare skin.
They do not speak; they do not touch.
They simply lie in silence, waiting
for a favorable wind to blow.
remnants of the storm lingering
in the open-air room.
Hard flesh is kneaded to softness
as anger and doubt briefly yield
to tenderness and desire.
The proverbial calm returns too soon
and begins its cycle once more,
a stifling heat settling over bare skin.
They do not speak; they do not touch.
They simply lie in silence, waiting
for a favorable wind to blow.