The sky blushed and quietly sighed,
the sun flashing hints of lingerie as it
slipped beneath the covers, far from
virginal but pouting playfully. I knew
I only had that one night in Montefalco,
one chance to see the dusky drama.
I bit my wine-stained lip and hummed
softly, watching the ballet of colored clouds.
Those last stretched seconds of day
were mine, but next time I want to see
that thick, sweet, display of grace
reflected in your gentle face.
No comments:
Post a Comment