1st Contact

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The water way we walked around was not the best of places to make any attempts at romance. Stagnant was both the air and liquid that we circled. A laugh and a walk with a moon as yellow as corn on the row. Strolling we talked and made little smiles at one another. My silly nature brings out the child in you, making you desire the grip of my hand in yours. You take my arm and we tell stories of the past and I don’t remember the moral just the look in your eyes. Hours past and we didn’t know the ticks tocked by as we rounded corners of the edge. A breeze wisps away the humidity and brings a fresh look at the way your top easily pops open. Heals in your hands you never seem rushed. In the truck the night has another surprise as deer find foliage beside the lot we are parked in. Your lean out my window puts your face close to mine and I feel my chest wrench. Your knees on the seat and hands center on my counsel, you couldn’t help but to be posed that way. Lost in the swirling I missed on the chance to take your lips to mine. Returning after your view of the doe and her pals, my hand you finally take. The conversation less comical but not true to the thoughts on our minds. The clock says its late and we decide to part ways. A kiss from you to my cheek that was perfect and not enough is the last contact before goodnights. Now my only rush is to my bed to dream the sweet, sweet dreams.