In the tall grass

He lies beside her in the tall grass
the clouds their only witness
savoring the silence
savoring the warmth of her lips
on his neck

There they write their book of dreams
spelled out across the soft of her belly
imprinted on open thighs
with wet fingers and tongue
his anxious printing press

“Do you every worry about a broken heart?” he whispers.
“No” she says, “because we share the same heart.”

(c) gibson grand