The fog of foreplay has succumbed.
I hear the penetrating clouds
approaching towards my bay in the south,
to wreak havoc on my moist land –
all the way from my swelling waters to
the taut peaks of my solid, heaving breasts!
I long for the rain, for the wetness too
and feel it soak me to my core!
Close your eyes, can you smell the musky wind,
the throbbing of the flood, the coming petrichor?

.


 

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