Saturday, 6 July 2013


A hot hand placed on the naked flesh of my lower back, is it still there? It is seared into me - skin and memory.

I don't allow myself to think of it that often - that would be a mistake - but my life seems transformed just at the thought of him.

The futility of the other situation is banished from my mind now when he whispers into my ear:
"you are a gift."

He wants to be near me, he askes to sit next to me and we talk the night away - he really wants to know me.

"Today I dance with you," he said charmingly as he twirled me in my new summer dress; a voice of honey that arouses something deep within.

"I appreciate you," I told him and I do: when no-one was there for me and I was alone, he was there to help me, "thank you."

"Do you want to start something with me," he asks sincerely. I press him against me in response - maybe I will . . .