tagErotic PoetryLow Country

Low Country


I found that swale again.
You know, the one that lies
just west of your center,
then south. I’m drawn
to the smooth shallow
of its banks and bottom,
how it sinks beneath
the ridge of your hip bone
and falls further still,
giving way to the grassy knoll
that is home to both
viper and tall lumber.
My tongue slips along its rim,
then dips to lap salt like water
from its hollowed bowl,
brimming with suggestion.
Lifting my eyes, I spy
the cradle of your
sweet low country
and blindly set forth
to explore there.

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byStiffClit© 2 comments/ 2704 views/ 2 favorites

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