Saturday, September 6, 2008
She stares at his name under received calls. It's Sunday. He had wanted Her then, sober as morning tea together with naked legs crossing one over the other until Her lips were on the bottom of His ear and on the skin just underneath. She followed that line up to His cheek bones and around His eyes. The tip of His perfectly sloped nose. Lips. Twice. The second one fuller than the first and down to His collar bones. One, two, three kisses across in length. She sat up to take Him all in, his skinny body, the meat on His arms, His closed eyes. She thought She could remember Him like that in Her bed, vividly, for Her next thirty living years.
Posted by Beth at 4:01 PM