The sun sends him screaming
from our ship,
chasing his youth,
into the bathroom,
blonde brushes into grey,
and he blushes,
as I swim closer.
I kiss, coded,
along his bow.
India.
Sierra. Tango. India. Lima. Lima.
Whiskey. Oscar. Uniform. Lima. Delta.
Safe in a lifeboat,
back in my arms,
he sinks back under the covers,
starts another sensuous storm.
Enter The Monthly Poetry Competition here
Order “Last Of The Greenwich Glamour Girls” here
Order “The Things We Did Last Summer” here
RECENT FREE CREATIVE WRITING COLLECTIONS
Notes To My Muse
Are You Afraid?
Ladylike
RECENT BLOGS
Release Day
2AM Music Video
Why I Hate Dating In The Modern World
COME FIND ME
Twitter
Instagram
Ask Jen
Facebook
Patreon
Tumblr
Amazon
Podcast
Spotify
YouTube
Advertisements
