Poetry is always a good way to start Mondays — especially after a long weekend. Enjoy!

I lose myself in the space at the base
Of your neck, the wood hollow, a place
Where rainwater collects and birds sing,
The smoothest pool for my longing.
I want to lay my tongue in the groove
Of flesh, below the bone cupola.
I want to stay there and not to move,
To taste your skin of magnolia.
I lose myself in the space at the base
Of your neck, all sense of self erased.
— Dave Malone

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