how you got in my pocket is beyond my lucky stars... how you continue to know me, when you never really listened is outside of the realm of my truest comprehension... you see i was groomed for being a lover of words- on an island of pitch pine, apples, grapes, cedars, and sand as white as november's first coarse snow..
dancing as hot as my first fireball red kiss on a windy tree filled hill... before anyone would see me..before i knew anything about pain following pleasure..about the cue stick vying for the even numbered balls..the luck of the draw, all jaunty and sporty--showing up on the wrong day, for the right date..in the wrong town, with the right smile..
without any tactfulness--all the right moves before sunset--the reminding oneself that it was real by rubbing one's lips back and forth up and down to simulate all the things one young man could confiscate from one trusting young woman, on a single afternoon, on a windy hill--between three pm and the dinner gong
Kate Lamberg~all rights reserved (c) '13
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| two egrets- photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13 |
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