Hand

1 August 2015

You looked over
just as I was looking up.
The trees were swaggering
amongst the clouds.
Your hand was upon my knee
and then not.

I pushed as you fought
against your own urgency:
Great surges of flesh
and then the heat
and then the smell of the heat.

The room was small
with the sound of us in it.
In the distance we could hear
dogs howling with their sound
for play.

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