Looking Through Stained Glass

That's the Rub
On the radio
A subtle sax
Plays smooth counterpoint
To the ragged rain
That pelts against
The windowpanes

A moment’s peace
Finally within range
After a day
That had proved hectic
Beyond all reason

The TV is off, but on record
As she casts the remote aside
For a candlelit bath
Setting a tone
Just right
For the adjacent room
Equally lit

As strong hands
Caress away
The last vestiges
Of the day
With the right touch
He creates instead

a mood indigo

Her breathy sigh
And arched back telling him
Yes, yessss

That’s the rub…

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© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

bird left

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