Night Walks

By Nick Delonas

She pulls a cap o'er her blonde curly hair Leashes her friend for a cold winter's walk The hour is late but the night is fair Its air clears her mind of day-heated talk

Often attracting but not the right kind Darkness shields her now from unwelcome eyes Quickening breath, breath, breath, quiets her mind And a fast uphill pace tightens those thighs

Body now tired she enters her home To cockatiel chirps and last minute chores Until she rests in hot bath-water foam Where sensual dreams fill wide open pores

At last she slips under thick covers, good night And, as I, dreams of me there holding her tight

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