Jan 22, 2021
2 min read
A Switchblade to My Heart
Regret cuts like a knife…
In the hush of early morn I slid
my hand inside your tee.
Faded cotton, crushed and creased
from the rigours of your sleep.
Felt your lower belly sing
beneath my trembling fingers,
Sensed the swell between your legs
as my hand fell there and lingered.
