Sun
Aug
22
Poetry 365: Quicksand, Kaitlyn Stoll
…And every time after
I’d repose on your ribcage
Cheek to chest
Eavesdropping
I knew
it could never be mine…
…desire might satisfy
a weekend
but never a lifetime
I wanted whispers
butterflies
breakfasts in bed
Not these straw houses
Not this quicksand…
