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Coffee
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Coffee We should get a coffee, meet somewhere public, in a café, where the coffee is good. What if I do not drink coffee, what if I want a meal or a movie, what then, Mister Plans? You will not want a meal already, is too soon, we barely know each other, I could have two heads, a wooden leg and an eye-patch, and you could come wrapped in your four cats, covered in seagull droppings, and only able to quote Engels. Engels. Yes, Engels. But his philosophies are so last century. However maybe you are right. Perhaps a coffee it should be. (...a pause...) And where would you propose? Well, a coffee shop, with small tables so we can touch around, and under, them. A young end of town, near a university, where they still understand enthusiasm....then we could talk, and share some time listening to the rhythms of thoughts.... And that is all? (a mischievious twinkle to those eyes is visualised) Well, we could move closer, and touch, A hand could lightly sketch across your leg, your knee, feel edge of your skirt, or drag nails through the tightness of your denim. see if your breathing changes, watch your face and listen to your words. Mmmmmm Thoughts in sensual pleasure to erotic writing writ. Feel free to travel - click - to my blog: An exploration introduction |
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my adulthood was the misspent part...never a truer word spoken....we decided to work, for something, was more important than living for something.....now I sound like a hippy, but sometimes, I do wonder if all the possessions, and the jobs, were gone, we would still have ourselves, and have to live with those selves with whom we have surrounded ourselves. Thoughts in sensual pleasure to erotic writing writ. Feel free to travel - click - to my blog: An exploration introduction
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