Parched, pink, supple skin
tastes of salt and strawberry.
Like countless late nights.
Fingers dance as one –
mirrored hands like those around
us. We are ghosts here.
Soft moans carry sound
through tepid summer nights. You
birth fire* to the air.
© Audrey Rosengreen, 2019
Trying some haiku. All inspired and for the LGBTQ+ These and more can be found on a side venture called @haikuunsaid over on Twitter.
*I understand the ambiguity of the word fire being used as both a one syllable word or two. In this case it’s one… so it fits of course. : P