The Blonde Girl

by fabian cortez

I sit as wisps’ of smoke

Hue my countenance

With bluish grey

My breath abates

To inhalations bliss

Yet spews forth

Its un-required

A moment later

Before enjoying

A return

-

I’ve not ventured here

For anything, but a moments

Relaxation to galvanise

My resolve yet in peace of

Inebriant used in

Ardent moderation

At least for now

-

She sits across the

Bar, I do not notice,

Until I return for a much

Favoured last refill

A gentle waft of her hair

Catches me in mid

Request, I don’t let

On

-

Now as I consume

My quenching amity

I see through my

Glass her blonde hair

And her vaguely revealing

Garb coveting the

Pleasing figure it

Contains

-

Her gentle

Laugh sporadically breaks

Through an evening’s

Smokey fug,

It appears to dissipate

Momentarily

-

I rise to take my leave

Feeling refreshed

As the door starts to

Close it halts and widens

Concurrently, her bright

Face smiles as she

Appears

-

As I lay next to her

Staring at her peaceful

Resting face, I consider

The blonde, blue eyed

Woman I’d seen at the bar

Who took my hand

In the car park

-

Placed it on her breast

To tell me I was hers

That night if I wanted,

The woman I pictured

Caressing & tasting

Every inch of,

Merging hedonistic

As we ravished each other

Sharing our very souls

As I walked

Home

-

Was not her

-

I lean in and

Kiss my wife

Gently on her tender

Mouth whispering

“I love you”

Before settling to

Sleep

© Copyright 2006 fabiancortez