There she is. Standing in our kitchen. That sweet
scent of vanilla that she wears wafts, moving its
pungent body like a beautiful scene from the
Cirque De Soleil; dynamic, acrobatic, enigmatic,
but I don’t care because it touches my sense
in a way…
She loves the Kings of Leon. I move toward the
portable boom box on the kitchen counter,
pressing play, selecting skip track forward – forward
she moves into my arms when she hears her
song. I lift her up; she pecks my lips – those
lips, she says it better – about mine; “like the
warm soft sensation serenading – the expression
is exquisite, delightful, natural; there’s
none like them.” Amen, mi amor, amen.
I set her down upon the soft sofa where I
feel her smooth skin while she runs her fingers
through my brawny beard – yes! the beauty
brought forth from contrasting connections.
We’re the connection connecting two lives
in order to form a fascinating figure,
happiness, yes, happiness.