tongue in groove

11.25.2008 (driving by des moines)

 

 

a blurred memory sweeps across my eyes

of a soft painted room

where we danced tongue in groove

like slotted spoon in kitchen cabinets

 

they day was cool,

beating gusts against the window pane

 

the sun was bright,

streaming through in tiny slits of golden amber

 

the light warmed our naked bellies

as you slide your fingers between mine

 

tongue in groove

like slotted spoons

 

 

 

Kevin M. Reader