Sitting at the kitchen table
flipping coins between pruning skin
the rain was a warning
the storm waiting to begin
lightning cracked against porcelain skies
he wiped away dirt from aging eyes
slipped a finger through the mug handle
let his long legs dangle
swishing carpet fibers, dust clouds arise
He called me darlin', I called him hun
he held me until we awoke to the sun
his beard tickled my lips when he kissed me goodnight
his eyelids fluttered, I turned on the light
The dog barked across the drunken street
puddles formed on trampled concrete
I look at the streetlamps, he takes off his belt
wraps me in closer, heartstrings melt
He's my someone, I'm his sugar pop
He tells me he loves me, and I like him a lot
He ruffles the covers to a worn in bed
we fall asleep to the silence, his hand beneath my head.
Monday, October 15, 2012
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