kitten on a hot tin roof

you make clouds
smoke signals that wake me up
because they carry your scent
uttering sunshine in prolonged songs
crafted with desire from places in your belly
starved for so long
they forgot
the speech of want a woman wields
when she is ready
and only after
a quatrain of lust
written with talented digits
that are counting seconds
to the meeting of our eyes
did you think to smile
and perhaps…purr


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