I couldn’t have anticipated the disquiet caused by “The Writer’s” thinly disguised taunting of the authorities.
As I sat to enjoy a very late breakfast / lunch at the very establishment that the world now knew was his “feeding” ground for juicy stories; that feeling overwhelmed me like a Limburger burger gone bad.
I glanced about me furtively. Who, I wondered, might be a poisoning, perhaps pilfering pachyderm potentially phishing for pen worthy protagonists among the unsuspecting patrons at the local McDonald’s?
I leapt to my feet, dashed to the door and ran to the Voracious Vegan Veggies-On-Wheels next door!
(With apologies and snickers to dear AnElephantCant for the inspiration.)
Now… Let’s eat! Do please peruse the phenomenal pennings of the murderously magnificent Sir Elephant for the apéritif 🙂
To kiss the raindrops off your lips
And taste the salt sweet of your kiss
To feel the promised storm in your fingertips
Love in the deluge… perfect bliss
One can find a way to be gracious to lonely. To find a way to fill the time.
Alone can be fixed in a bar, with a drink and a good dance move or witty quip
Lonely… you need to be more tender. Smarter, deeper…
Alone doesn’t mind quick ‘n dirty… a shower and Crest can fix up her aftertaste
Lonely prefers to be cherished, understood. She is the voice calling deep in your heart
Alone… you learn what you want, she can be a very demanding teacher…
Lonely is more the gentle muse, who touches your heart to remind you of what you need…
I think he said “I need you…” as we stared at each other, stopped my breath, made me bite my lip…
I think he said “please…” as he ran his fingers down my thigh, trailing fire everywhere they touched…
I think a tiny moan escaped me and he looked at me with an expression that was somewhere between master and slave…
And I no longer think, I am undone…
As we lay here in our tumbled bed
My thoughts are writing the most glorious fiction
How I long to pen them upon your skin
An opus of love to my muse, in friction