Heat-stroke

clouds sway along her hollows wriggling toes too warm to walk the sun escapes behind sunglasses - she reads his shadow exhaling words she swallowed watching dreams and listening to devilment playing tunes of crimson laughter A novel way to spend romance she scratches her soul waiting for the wind to sweep another cloud across her skin lip-serviced whispered words fills the image in she asks the sun - why it feels the need to warm her breast yet allows the wind to paint her nakedness with clouds her fingers open flowers patiently waiting for reply the sun stole his shadow whispered him the answer laid his wispy form across her chest the clouds hide secrets behind sunglasses sweated words release her shadowed lover and still the devil smiles