EB
It started
at the Beach Club, white
sand dusted
the board. Cube
mystery solved late:
double sixes cleared your home,
I smiled at the blue-
eyed twinkle
over swimmer’s breasts,
firm, even for eighteen: your
Montclair roots
augmented by strict
upbringing
easily
surpassed by passion.
Watkins conceded romance.
We never got caught,
cabanas
wide open to the
night, three beach loungers placed to
shield young love.
Learning the lexicon of
your long legs,
tongue patrol over
muscle terrain, two
weeks of lust,
a few months of letters, then
the fade back
to lives unshared yet
forever enriched.
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
i love this…
love is in the winter air, next to the fire of our dreams
Thanks Leyla….I love your eye for photogrpahy and your support. Hope we meet one day.