Sunday, March 11, 2012


image: uzengia a. nedic


I sunburn
under your
late-summer eyes,

our tongues hinge,
then come apart
like two rakes,
side by side.

We cull essence,
swallow brine
with the tang

of Russian vodka
in your mouth,
the silvery-cold taste
of well water in mine.

tess kincaid

March 2012

Posted over on her site Life at Willow Manor

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