Faded Navahoe Blanket
We gaze into the fire, you and I, Wrapped up in an old Navahoe blanket, My head laying on your shoulder, Caught up in the rythem of your heart beat, Your hands gentle, stroking, soothing, The problems of the world seems far from us, Your lips brush my hair, As you gather me close in your embrace, The large October moon, looks down, I don't notice that your warm hands, Have begun to touch me more intimate, Your hands have become lovers hands, Stroking and playing my body like a fine violin, Your lips move to cover mine, We drink caught up in a moment of thirst, Clothes are abandoned, bodies warmed, By passion and that faded Navahoe blanket, Mumbled words captured in time, Stars explode as desire is forfilled, You say you love me. For the first time, Beneath that old faded Navahoe blanket. Written November 13th, 2001 © on Nov 13 2001 11:55 AM PST, Phyllis Thompson 18 • 0 • 16
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"We gaze into the fire, you and I, ..."