Words On A Page

I could tell you I miss you and I miss us. Could tell you in greater detail The Who, what and Why of it.

Could tell you I have questions about the present and future. That I sometimes wonder and worry about fantasy versus reality.

And I could tell you my guy says go forward, can’t determine anything by watching and waiting.

Can’t know how hot the sun is without visiting. Risk is required for reward. Doesn’t mean one has to be reckless or that one has to walk in a hazmat suit.

So I could tell you about bending you over the couch or the joy of you in your back looking up at me.

Both are fun but I prefer the eye contact, can’t be that open and intimate with just anyone.

I want to know more that’s what it’s about, not just words on a page.

Post Pandemic

He wrote her a note saying when the pandemic ends and it is safe he expects to spend time alone with her.

“Submit to my tender mercies woman.”

It was silly and goofy, but hope had returned with the election and he knew she felt some of that too.

“Be prepared for the biggest hug you have received in a long time and if you are lucky, I may choose to do more. Maybe.

But you might have to say please.”