Long summer vacation.
Awkward glances,
tentative smiles
and fingers intertwined

Candy apple mustang
pulls into a motel parking lot.
My soul jumps out of the car,
opens the door for me
with a smile
and a wicked gleam in his eye.
We check in.
Number 2b.

I peer out the window.
That ball of fire
beats down.
My soul beats on the air-conditioner
with a frustrated fist.
My clothes stick to my body
with the glue of sweat and dust.

I spy the motel pool
filled with liquid sapphires.
A refreshing oasis
surrounded by cheap lawn chairs.
My every pore screams
for the water’s soothing caress.
I squeeze into my bathing suit.

Dashing out onto hot concrete,
dropping my towel carelessly
over a lounge chair.
I jump in
instantly immersed
in cool, blue pleasure.

My soul stands on the diving board
ready to demonstrate
his olympic prowess.
With a mighty leap,
he bellyflops
and surfaces with a cough
and a grimace of pain.
We splash each other
underneath a cerulean sky.

Refreshed, our minds turn to...
other pastimes.
We dash upstairs.
I fall back onto the bed,
bathing suit discarded.

My soul lays down beside me,
pulling out a heart-shaped box.
Whitman’s.
The chocolate melts in my mouth
as he feeds me.
One by one.
I lick his fingers clean.
Slowly.
Then I feed him.

Pounding hearts,
soul-searching eyes
and fingers touching.
We empty one heart-shaped box
and fill another.


 
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