Lest we forget summer's heat so soon, here's a poem I wrote in the summer of 2006. It has a Yellow Rose feel to it, follwing TWRP's garden pattern, so thought I'd share. Enjoy!
Plum juice runs down
My arms between us as
We share a giggle and
A bite—another nibble
On my neck below my ear,
Your breath sticky, plum forgotten.
Near the kitchen sink but not
Exactly over it, the fight
We had earlier forgotten,
You explore what
Brought us together on
Our pre-date so many
Years ago, when
You kissed me
And I returned it,
Un-shy and hungry,
Lips tongue and hands
Where they had no business going
On a man I barely knew.
And I stopped you at my panties
Only because my period was due
Not because I was modest.
Here we are,
Years, houses and baby
From where we began,
Yet your lips opening
And tongue loving mine
Shivers my knees,
Makes me damp beneath.
I grasp the edge of the sink behind,
You lean into my flesh,
Hands on my tush.
Dog's been out, She's asleep—
Let's go, cowboy. . .
Kelly McCrady author site
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