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by Tyrone Jorelle Barrozo |
Carinthia in the Summer
I can feel your lips upon my cheek,
your hands caressing me gently,
and my auburn hair adorned
with white and lavender daisies.
Under the warmth of the breaching sun,
I feel free with you, lying close
atop and underneath this Tuscan cover
in a gold-leaf field divorced from reality
where life blooms beneath our feet.
Forget me not nor your lover’s kiss
so that when we depart from this field
the west winds over the calm of Attersee
can bear witness to devotion
if our intentions are as true as our desires
lest this is adoration amiss.
***
TYRONE JORELLE BARROZO is a graduate of Towson University. He was a recipient of the Good Contrivance Writing Fellowship in 2020 and published in several online publications such as The Retriever, The Towerlight, and Screen Fervor. In his sleep, he occasionally hears dark forms whispering unspeakable atrocities if he has sugar after midnight.
Find Tyrone via the links below:
Twitter: @AffairsStrictly
Instagram: @T_P_O_S_E
Substack: https://morningowl.substack.com