Soon he says…

A favorite word to indicate intention.

‘Soon’ fades into silence always…

Yet, I remember once when ‘soons became solid.

Solid pointed up inside me, rocking me sweetly…

Poetic rising and falling all too briefly.

Noting nothing beyond that rectangle of softness…

The scents, sounds of ‘soon’ given life.

Cradled in your hands, my flame captured…

Gee that you could love me ‘soon’ again.

 

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