I filled her glass, the bottle was almost empty anyway and my glass was full. It was getting late into the night. We had a great dinner in the old part of town, wandered around the street festival, then headed back to my place, two dates earlier than I expected.
the slightest correction
couldn’t finely hone
There it is, the last song I heard.
She came back into the kitchen and asked, “You always mumble to yourself?”
She had a quirky smile on, the one that caught my attention 3 months ago.
“It’s a habit I have, the last song I hear usually stays stuck in my brain,” I took her hand to bring her to the window, “I’ve been doing it since I was three.”
She took a sip of wine while looking at the city through the picture window.
the sweetest infection
of body and mind
I don’t think I heard this today.
“You’ve been singing since you were three?” she moved a little closer, the light highlighting her nose piercing.
“I’ve been mumbling to myself since I was three,” I said leaning in closer, “I only sing in the shower.”
“Really?!” she let me take her hand and pulled her closer.
when i need a drug in me
and it brings out the thug in me
Maybe the guy upstairs has his music loud tonight.
“You have some lipstick on your cheek,” she said reaching for a napkin.
“I thought all lipstick was non-smudging these days,” I joked.
I had my hands on her hips when she started to wipe the smudge off my cheek. She put the napkin in her half empty wine glass and started turning me towards my bedroom door.
things you’d expect to be
having effect on me
This song is not this long.
She smiled with that smile again, “No wonder you’re always late for work,” she said, “your duvet and mattress are all feather-filled…comfy.”
“I like my sleep,” I responded as she pulled me over her.
“Too much sleep is not good for you,” she whispered in my ear.
takes me completely
touches so sweetly…