the rolling hills looked like
the highlands
green and going on forever
only the indifferent sky occupied
what was otherwise
just she and myself
her clothes were off
her ivory skin stood in
contrast
to the backdrop of the world
and i just stared
her black hair barely reaching
her shoulders
and the blanket on which i lay
was soon to become our first
bed
i think we made love six times
until the night’s approaching
chill
forced our clothes to reattach
to our bodies
the walk down the hill was
silent
my mind dwelling on her gothic
skin
under a pale blue sky
in the distance i saw a hint of
clouds
gathering for a storm
i don’t believe in omens
but i should have back then
***
No comments:
Post a Comment