Phase Three Strawberry Moon

We seem stuck in twilight,
purple-black sky washed
in amber light.
Weighty, sweet air
redolent with leaves and blooms
and the scent of our sweat.
Trees reach their shadows over
your shoulders, back,
face and eyes.
I see flashes as we move,
bronze and rose striping
flesh. 
Your touch is heavy as the
summer night.
Under you, I can barely breathe.
My thoughts follow the smokey clouds,
but the rumbling of your voice
deep into my ribs
brings me back. 
Your gaze–
sharp clarity. hungry focus–
pins me.
I bend my neck to you.
You accept.

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