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By chris Submitted by chris Date: 2001 Aug 05 Comment on this Work [[2001.08.05.22.15.27660]] |
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I lead you through the trees draped with Spanish moss, the trail soon becomes muddy, and your feet-- small and fairy-like and bare-- begin to sink into the squishy muck. "The hell with it..." I say, wanting to turn back to a drier place, but you will have none of it. "Never say turn back," you say and stop right in your tracks, drawing me close, pulling my head to your rosy, swelling bosom... "For that pessimism I will make you kiss me." And I do, long and lingering. Will it ever end? Finally you let me go. (How good it is to breathe at last...) "Take me there--now," you implore me. I have no choice; deeper we go into the swamp... The mosquitos are next to get us. "I expect one kiss for every bite," you warn me. "Is that a threat?" I ask. "Take it for what it's worth. No...take me right here, now, you rogue..." You will not be denied. The swampy darkness stands mute guard as we make passionate love deep among the kudzu and palmetto. Finally, much later, we are there in the few remaining minutes before dark. I make you close your eyes, then you open them and see what I have prepared for us-- A cabin thatched with moss and sealed with mud-- our new home on the Bayou. You place my hand beneath your swelling bosom and ask me if I can feel anything. "No," I say. Tears come to your eyes. "Well, I hope there's room here for three..." The darkness around us is now complete. I can think of no words that can adequately express the simple joy growing in my heart. So you speak for me-- "Kiss me," you say as night falls on the Bayou... |