She trembles from the cold
it is chilly
and we're not wearing shirts.
I slide my left hand under her neck
as my right goes around her waist
and I pull her close to me.
As she snuggles in;
we share a moment, and then another
and then more and more
until we are flooded with moments
and we become warm to each other.
Dreams come;
sleep comes, a sweet sleep.
My right hand moves up to her hip
and then slides back to her waist
following the Earth's most beautiful arc
and then moves up searching for
a handful of breast;
and I assume the position
that I would love to be in
when death's cold kiss finds me.
1 comment:
Falsey, I am enjoying your "Home Acres Chronicles." I was a few years ahead of you at KHS - Pete Groendyk's class (where is Pete these days?). The stories are fun, you have a much better memory than I, and I like your writing. I still wonder whatever happened to the Little League trophy that was at Candy Ann's with pictures of the league champs over a 4 year period, including my team - Lipps Auto Parts - from probably about 1959. Fun times. Best wishes.
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