Devin JohnstonZipping your skirt, you rustle past, sand hissing through a glass, with the Bedouin snap and flash of static-electric sparks disturbing fabric. This morning’ s charge could rouse The Desert Fathers of Sinai over which I drowse. Tags: RelationshipsLoveDesireRealistic & ComplicatedU.S.MidwesternFree VerseShort poemUncategorized