freshly formed
. . . a peck freshly formed of crimson on my neck,
a hint here, a hint there,
almost ready to turn blue, but not yet.
the feeling it left still lingers,
the shivers, the jaw drop,
the touch of feather, fire, and fin,
all at once.
the droplets of sweat
running down shoulders
finding their way to the spine
and the breath,
going breathless
beautifully and fast
still holding the warmth
freshly formed
of a peck on the neck . . .
aaumsy 