Raw

Tangled,
Still slightly dampened sheets,
Distorted from our bodies colliding,
Moistened from our bodies exhaling.

Our skin,
Shines,
Still,
From the slight glisten…
As the growing light of daybreak
Refracts through the moisture
Of remaining sweat,
Yet adorning us.

And,
Lingering,
A sweetness in the air,
Of us…

Warm,
Comfortable,
Satiated.

All of this,
Unkept.

All of this,
Unconstrained.

All of this,
Unsophisticated.

All of this…

Just a little bit,

Raw.

 

 

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

 

2 thoughts on “Raw

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