spinning

my head is spinning dear

but I am grinning

recollecting our

sneezing, coughing

hugging and giggling

wriggling our toes

under the blanket

we were both diseased dear

and the storm was brewing

but we got addicted

to each other’s sharing

and secrets

until we were spinning dear

but my fever

made me smile

.

all the way home dear..

.

.

.

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8 responses to “spinning

  1. Love your style,, ,

    Reading this poem I get the feeling of eavesdropping — or more specifically intruding on two lovers private conversation. Maybe even shades of voyeurism?

    Interesting feelings this poem is invoking.

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