Droplets of condensation cling to your fingers,
stick to my skin as your hands climb my spine.
You consume me, a shot of Jack burning my throat.
* * *
This was written in response to the Three Line Thursday challenge.
TBI Survivor Story
One Hell of an Apprenticeship
He was so ugly that everybody died. The end!
An engineered explosion of erroneous exposition.
...becoming the glory within
composed late at night, from amongst chaos and coffee
Poetry for Girls & Monsters
Fun for the whole asylum!
Get Your Keys, Grab Your Coat.
A rather droll affair
Shattered long ago...
Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.
Two old men write poetry, short stories and other things
Where are you John Bender...
My Imagination is the DEVIL on my shoulder