Precision

bySunrockSin©

 
Curved from the polished bone
in sinewy suggestion:
words, naked confession,
breasts sagging in the light,
bright flesh in stark rhythm
and reverberating verse.

And a bead of sweat
flows down her side
rolling over her hip
and down her thigh.

The poem ends
before the salt stains
the floor -- the carpet
and she walks away,
her forgotten lines repeated
in the saline sway of footsteps.
 
 

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