A dream in lockdown.


Love-making is like drowning,
Shallow gasps of desperate air,
Lungs bursting in the depths of joy,
Temples pounding with bending blood -
And then our hands touch dry land,
Fingering the ripples in the sand,
And we drag ourselves along the beach,
Turning on to our backs, fish out of water,
Mouths open, miming some primeval chant,
Sucking the sweet ether of blissful union,
Aching like two lucky shipwrecked sailors.

Poetry by Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 16 times
Written on 2021-01-12 at 21:58

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