Non-Erotic PoetryDepartingA hot sultry night
In a place between awake and slumber
Do I feel you?
I turn to face you
Your breath tiptoes upon my arm
My hand lays on soft plumpness
Moulded with your curves
Are you really there?
Now present, is a chilly air
A cloudy shadow rises
Eyes flutter as consciousness beckons
I see you drifting
On the gentle breeze
My weary arm lifts
And passes through the mist
Eyes awake as you escape
Through the partly open window
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