Contours

Contours of hips and collarbone,
As morning’s hot sun sneaks
Her lackadaisical light to your skin tone,
A warm heart: an orange leak

Your smile so decalescent, searing
It’s memory impressed like a hot iron
Melting, cooling then nearing:
Roaring like he the alpha lion

Into the fragments of my fidelity,
The V so perfect a W so profound
Letters unobscured to clarity
Silence falls, there’s little sound

Two pairs of green eyes wearily close
Body burrowed to a chest
Of contours so sweet she chose
And their dazed day, laid to rest.

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