For a while, I follow your blue eyes glowing off the stereo,
then tuck myself into you, inhaling your smell, remembering
our summer in my four-poster bed. You wrapped me in
your robe, we passed joints in the sunlight of my bathtub.
At night, you laid your muscle under my pillow. And in
the blue light of the TV, I nestled my back in your chest.
But it’s drizzling tonight in the headlights, they glide by the
main road that passes the lake. In the back seat, you hold
me under your arm—your pants unzipped, me breathless.
I reach my cigarette out your window, but the orange pit falls
inside the car, shattering like fireworks onto my panties.
That disappearing lace is how jealousy burns when you
tell me later a new chick was in your head even then.
Photo Credit: uzi978 via Compfight cc
Catherine, I am a “wannabe writer”, you my dear ARE A WRITER !!