A/N: Written for the Monthly Het-Tastic Drabble-athlon, Dean/Parvati, #075 – brown.
A Larger Poetry Collection
137. Sun-kissed
Her skin had been kissed by the god of the sun:
a golden brown that could only be born
from the sand, and the desert boon
oil that shone, instead of water that dripped
from sweat and the scabbed blotches
of red that came from the sun he knew
And then there was the way she laughed:
that biting tone she could take
like a fierce desert tiger
of the soft tenderness she spared
only for her friends
And he was one of those friends
but he wanted something more:
wanted to be able to run her art fingers
down her skin without it being wrong
And he wanted to see the next level of his smile:
an even more beautiful one she tucked away,
out of prying eyes…
He wanted to be kissed by her
like the rising sun.