Our perfect days to come have to start with one, the day we say hello, the day that we begin, to talk a while and feel, all that we’ve begun is real, to let what we have grow, through looks and smiles, and hand holds, and if our chemistry is right, as I believe it might, then we’ll be all we’ve ever said, the two of us, behaving naturally, instinctively, behind closed doors, the bedroom, the sofa, the kitchen table, up against the hall wall, and as I know you have a hankering, al fresco too, the touch of grass upon your skin, words undressed as us, all we are exposed …
He thought he’d lost her … that why she walked away
‘He can’t help the way he looks … her affection he mistook’
‘She can’t help the way she looks … his affection she mistook’
He read her note … seems he overdid the doing nothing.
All it took … it’s gone now.
He’d go anywhere with her … she’d go with anyone but him.
[@EDC_Writing #SlapDashSat – 12th May 2018]
Strange the feeling … loss of someone you never had yet wanted.
And should I fail to catch you … always know I tried.
He stills their years between … asks her to walk a while with him
His grasp of her … quite theoretical