The Dank Hues Of Hot Desire And Fading Sunlight…

Like the grit of a sultry slide guitar meandering through the humid haze of a summer dusk, thoughts of you have me in kind of a state.

A boozy, lazy smile across my face and a hint of sin in my constitution. The grainy memory of our night replaying like the old print of a classic drive-in movie, choppy, frayed…memories in dingy, faded technicolor.

We didn’t understand the magic of that night, why would we? Young, hungry, obliviously hedonistic. The sweat running down our bodies like the droplets cascading down the side of a cool glass in the wet heat, swirling with the dank hues of hot desire and fading sunlight.

Our score played by a symphony of crickets and our stage intimately lit by a chorus of fireflies, we gave each other and took each other and swam as one in a pool of languid moonlight.

I have visited this moment often, this one night with you and the warm twilight. Listen and you may hear that slide guitar sing low for us…


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