By Shirley Skufca Hickman
Firm thighs pressed against mine.
Now, not so firm, not so tight.
Our kisses less exciting but more loving.
We are like sturdy oaks surviving savage winds.
We shade each other from the scorching sun
And give protection from the crippling chill of age.
“You still have a nice figure,” he says.
I know he’s lying, and he knows I know.
What he means is he remembers how I used to look,
Just as I remember his thick, curly hair,
His strong arms tight around me.Firm thighs pressed against mine.
Now, not so firm, not so tight.
We close our eyes and remember how we used to be.
His experienced hands know how and where to touch.Our kisses less exciting but more loving.
We are like sturdy oaks surviving savage winds.
We shade each other from the scorching sun
And give protection from the crippling chill of age.
Copyright © 2020 by Shirley Skufca Hickman |