The Sticky Heat: Not a Poem


You know those sticky nights,
where the sheets plaster to your skin,
and the heat radiates from the windows,
that sticky heat that lingers,
The nights that end in cool mornings,
kisses for breakfast,
in the tranquility of the sunlight,
pouring in through the airy blinds.
the sheets don’t seem to feel as heavy,
and the corners don’t seem to crawl.
Just fingertips and eyelashes and soft,
just love, and light, and day,
But sticky heat is in my heart,
and it still lingers, its still heavy,
whenever I see you, or touch you,
heavy heat that makes make tear up a bit,
whenever we lay in silence.
Heavy love, that feels like certainty,
unfamiliar but I’m getting there.
Sticky heat frolick in sheets entangled,
please linger.



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