Come down and hug me.
She had missed his message, therefore hurried back towards the hall; the crowd was filtering out in the opposite direction.
As she entered the place, she saw him in the centre of the room, and she stopped a while at the entrance to watch him. The way he talked and laughed with the journalists, the charmer he was for the cameras. He was always meant to be there.
I’m so proud of you.
She was happy to be there, just watching him from the side, smiling to see him the way he was.
A proximity that was near enough, and they could never be closer.
He checked her out.
Letting his eyes run down the contours of her body slowly and back up.
Forced into his full view by the crowd, she had noticed him the minute he glanced up.
The crowd alighted.
A space appeared right between them, stark naked.
New crowd entered.
That space was almost immediately taken, somewhat a relief.
He turned on his tablet and she took in the scene of clinical oblivion, glued commuters and their beloved screens.
As the train pulled in, their eyes met. She gave him a slight smile. He returned it.
Then he rose.
Pushing through, he came towards her.
As he passed, the air between them was all over each other, tangled and desirous, raw and sexual.
He thrusted, harder and urgent; she clawed with the whites of her eyes, gasping, rhythmic.
Then he was gone.
The train picked up speed.
She smiled to herself.
I’ve been feeling so
Close to you, it’s like
Your soul is drawing mine
Into its embrace.
He stirred her soul
Then poured himself in.
I would speak of dewy
Mornings and sunsets aglow
But for a visual that draws my
Breath whispering of home.
(Muse: Joseph Black)
Have you ever been to Paris?
No, but I’ve been kissed by a Frenchman, so you could say I’ve had a taste of France.
I’ll bring some French wine when we meet, then our kiss will get a French taste.
French taste, Italian body.
I am referring to the wine, of course.
I would attempt to
Tame my heart, but I wonder
How long would it last?