Summer Night

Rolled under the duvet
in breath-heated twists,
where is my ending
in this beginning?
In the sweat-oiled turns
of semen’s last grease,
we are those creatures
which creep in the heat.

Mike Bell Poetry

Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take a nap. By then he should be about 85 years old and have out-gunned PD, dementia, and the end of days. Possibly. Before the floods and fires. Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.

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