Summer - Poem by Kimara Young
The heat is a man named Summer.
Cruel and with a temper.
To the point
Where you can't help but strip
At his slightest touch.
He is bold and unashamed.
His tongue licks a path
Across your body
In the light of day.
Causing moisture to pool from every pore and gland.
Staining your clothes
That all may see
How he has marked you.
As he has many others.
His touch is unwanted.
Stripping you of clothes and senses.
A force that keeps your mind dulled
Your body slow.
You crave for him to be gone.
Never again to be held within his grasp.
Yet you ache for him all the more
When you leave the safety of your home
And Winter has suddenly set his cold eyes upon you.
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