Sunday 22 June 2014

We Walk by Amber Decker

along the Potomac River at sunset,
his fingers dipping under 
the hem of my t-shirt,
tracing circles on my back.
Turtles bubble up 
to the surface in the brown water,
red and black-swirled shells reflecting 
the soft glow of lights 
from the Interstate bridge
suspended above. 
As the dark settles in 
and the rush of traffic slows, he 
slips his hand into mine, pulls me 
down next to him
in the mud and grass
and suddenly we're kissing,
making out 
like horny teenagers, 
lips and tongues and hands
frantic and everywhere,
until even our speech
has dissolved into wordless
animal warbles, 
with nothing but the water
and the sky
and the turtles
left to tell anyone how
sweet the night air feels
running loose 
across plains of bare skin
and how even the coyotes
in the fields nearby 
fall quiet
and leave the moon for us
to sing to.

Amber Decker is a poet from West Virginia who has been published extensively in both print and online venues. She is a lover of horses, hooded sweatshirts, dark chocolate, fantasy novels, werewolf movies and red wine. She also spends a ridiculous amount of time at the gym working on her anger management issues. Her most recent chapbook,True North, was released in September 2013 and is available from Maverick Duck Press.  

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