All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               He came to her, full and raised, presented in morning sun’s flood-spill through front door’s frame.                Spread of her thin-lipped smile grew in seeing of the sight; tousle of her hair, mirthful of light and airy laugh, as she felt the room-scene’s change in cross-legged sit at island’s rest.  Loose of long-sleeved button […]

               In open space and still of the after, she remained in lie and spread, draw and widen of her leg in drape, gentle of his touching too as they kissed in lie and their rest; slow roll and pulse in match of tongues, her change of take and suck upon as he matched of […]

               They felt the gloom of morning’s cast: its damp and cool and still of air that clung to their bodies as rain without the fall, a heaviness that would not change or move until rain’s release or sun’s burning through and melt of away.                Together, they worked in the garden hoeing rows, pulling […]