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Frank Prem

B of E #17: when she walked it was a saunter

she was humming in the bathroom
the kind of hum that made him think


she\'s happy


he drew his mind back to the paper
something said about the world
about the state
about the town
something said
about the neighborhood

 

she stepped across the room
and he noted when she walked
it was a saunter
the way a model on a catwalk might
to draw attention
to the length of her legs
beneath the towel
she wore high
an armful of blanket
and the two pillows
she leaned to lay out on the floor
in an arrangement

 

a set of     look at me     languid half-steps
across the room
to press a button
that filled the air with music
then a sashay
that threw away his paper
grasped his hand
brought him to his feet
so she could dance

 

he watched the dreaminess
in her eyes
as she swayed
drops of water
still beaded on her shoulders
from the shower

 

felt heat
rising from her body
drew her close to fit him
turned her around
on their dance-floor
and as the music hit crescendo
they stopped


.


.


.


.


.


she wore the special taste on her lips
folded further into his arms
and with the surrender of the towel
he fell in love

 

all over again

 

~

 

it seemed just a moment
but the sun had gone
afternoon had wandered into evening
while they lay with each other
another day
had disappeared

 

into night

 

~