When She Erupts by Tim D LivingstonWhen she erupts, she's up on top
Consuming the landscape beneath rhythmic sheets and tremors
Falling, her hair mops my face in tickling swirls
Laughing eyes land in mine like pools of hot blue romance
Her kisses devour my epidermis
Slow burning erosion
And romancing magma
And when she is through
I am volcanic ash 05/23/2015 Posted on 05/23/2015 Copyright © 2024 Tim D Livingston
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