Scores of Saturdays

Rum and Robots

Poem by Joni on August 12, 2021Photo by Marta Wave on

A freckle danced circles around her nose
Little feet moving like a ballerina
Teeth crafting her smile into a bright star
Her hair smelling of ripe strawberries
Oh, how he loved her, and how she liked to dance
Watching her, knowing her, consumed in a trance

Dropping on the floor tired, slowly kissing her feet
Picking her up gently like his southern, ripe peach
Carrying her to their bed, he unbuttoned his blue shirt
He wanted her close, to feel her pale skin
Warm, sweat dripping between her breast
He knew she was his, just like he knew the rest

She would say, it is getting late but never meant it
He loved all her smells and would not want her to shower
This was their dance now; even the bed knew their moves
Missing breakfast was an…

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