(All art and photography displayed on this site is the original work and property of Shirley Alexander)
Quench
Maybe you ask;
Why do I carry the dream of us in my heart?
I think of your skin,
moist and heated under the glide of my fingers,
and the way your name is a salty sweet kiss
across my searching tongue.
Still, I cannot shape words into an answer.
Why?
Why does a traveler take a flask
into the desert?
Shirley Alexander
2009
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