Wishful Thinking

Tell me where I am
because I’m lost
in your voice,
calling me with
a sultry gleam
that sparkles in your eyes,
intriguing me with a fearless nod,
pulling me close with
the gesture of your finger;
your free finger pressed
to your lips, shushing
me with the anticipation
of more left unsaid;
the friction of our bodies
torch the shadows.
We hike to a cave from which
below rests a pot of luck,
and a wish; one wish.
One and nothing more.
“Wed me for cheap thrills,
or burn in hell.” She shot me a devious grin.

(© 2022 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers Club)

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