The humid air
Dripping in suffocating moisture
Substitutes for your arms
And wraps around me tightly
It teases my hair
And tousles my curls
Displaying the frenzied
Extension of my mind
It forms beads of sweat
On my forehead and nose
Making my skin cry
And mixing its tears with the air.
Our love was humid
Tearful, smothering, excessive
Taking my most favorite parts of me
And surrendering them to the air.
Poetry
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What a great idea to compare a lover to the wind. You connected those two ideas really well in this piece. The third stanza, however, seems to lose the metaphor and become entirely about the wind. How could a person form beads of sweat on your forehead? (unless you’re talking about sex of something). I’d consider reworking that stanza a bit.