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