She lifts her skirt to her knees
And in pale bare feet she walks
On the lush green grass
Her chocolate hair dances about
On her shoulders and around her ears
Until she pulls it back behind them
With tender fingers,
She sits down before the crimson sunset
And waits for me to join her under a thick tree
I stop to observe the rolled up sleeves
On a white blouse with blue waves on it
Contouring her slender figure flawlessly
The setting sun glows on her cheek as she turns
Her caramel eyes meet mine and I am in heaven,
Seated next to her, I kiss her sweet mouth
And I take her feminine veiny hands to my face
The smile she gives me sheds some divine light upon us
Our embrace has me giddy as a drunken fool,
But I do not speak it,
We embrace as a cool breeze sweeps under us
Catching this moment and locking it away
To forever remember.
About the Creator
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Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi3 days ago in Fiction
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