Peckham Flex
Car park rooftop
under a glistening sky
the air thick with summer and
our throats wet in ecstasy.
Resplendent eyes meet
skin browned in heat
a once gentle hand touched rough,
a once smooth face grazed coarse.
Shallow breath
warm on the nape of necks
Lips part, plump and pale
speaking salted whispers, the final nail.
Laced with intent,
the rules we bent
With black clothes
and dark humour
razor sharp tongues
Blades of grass drying in the white hot sun.
As our galaxy dwindles.
the one above blooms
Our dreams are offerings
to the darkening sky
palpable silences
You and I.
Jack D. Murphy
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