A Switchblade to My Heart

Regret cuts like a knife…

Jupiter Grant
Jan 22, 2021 · 2 min read
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

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.