my sun is a peach.
and I crave that being a sweet fruit I am to his days, too.
my sun is a peach.
my sun unfurls smooth skin to reveal sweet essence in moments of passion and love. his taste tangy and long lasting, must it not be forgotten. when he bears himself to the howls and rains of the day, his hanging in the sky illuminating shadows into nothingness, he stays soft and warm-colored even still. if the day be too warm in times of his winter, he stays wrapped within it and bears himself in love. my sun’s hands on my waist as that sweet, sweet essence pollinates the day into Spring yet once more and the bees fly in uncontrollable hums throughout the sky, I wantonly take a bite of him against his neck. he is velvet on my tongue.
my sun is a peach, and I crave that being a sweet fruit I am to his days, too.
- the day.
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