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

An error has occurred. This application may no longer respond until reloaded. Reload 🗙