Erotic Poetry Hub / Erotic Poetry / North


by LittleRedWildflower 03/07/20

Autumn, driving north.
The brindled blur of ravaged
cornfields hurry past.

Your sturdy hands on
the wheel, the lull of your voice,
home. And I want you...

sharp inside of me, warm
and distinct, like the scent of
oranges in winter.

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