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poetry

Sweet rest

Curled around you
sleep warmed and softened.

My palm presses against
the gentle slope of your belly
made heavy by rich food and pressed grapes.

My heart pulses patiently against
the fence of my ribs,
the boundary of your back.

All my senses are at rest;
All my being has given way to peace;
All my world safely laid in this bed.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

Discussion

2 thoughts on “Sweet rest

  1. Really love this.

    Posted by jusRhae | 6 March 2014, 1659 EST

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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