Reserved.

June 12

Sweet tasting mocha skin,
Swirls of raspberry chocolate,
Dribbled on chest and abdomen,
Loved far too much by the wind's
Teasers.

Each anklet waved with purpose,
Though her lips blew cold breath,
Frozen as the wind on chilled hair,
Bitter as the faith which is fading,
In mind.

Heat slowly being created together,
By lying lips against cigarettes,
Remembering how only pretty girls,
Are allowed to smoke like she wants,
And needs.

She dances to rock by the wall,
Alone where her declining limbs rest,
Against the painting of two kissing cops,
All by the seaside so she can excuse herself-
It's the noise

From the waves that makes buzzing,
In the mind far too loud for her to sleep.
And remember his tender kisses which
Were only meant for her but which she
Shared.