|
|
A little cafe romance, Almost out of sight. They sit in the corner, All through the cool night. The air is whipped, With jazz and spiced java. That runs down their throats, Like a peppered espresso lava, That heats up their cheeks, She bites her coffee stained lip, She's practically begging, For just another sip. The expressive bongos, Make him tap his feet. He's in his element, He owns the beat. But she owns the rhymes, With her way of words she Whispers for him to give her, What she deserves. He kisses her lightly, And airy like whipped cream, He pulls away and smiles, She looks down and gleams. Oh those young kids, Discovered love is sweet, As they live in their own world, In cafe on the corner of the street. |
Sex, sex, sex. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but it was such a wonderful metaphor for sex. Brings back memories of my first date with my now-husband when we went to a little coffee shop that's now out-of-business...held hands and whispered to each other. sigh. Impeccable rhythm and wonderful words with just the right connotation. A favorite, for sure. -Carrie. | Posted on 2012-10-30 00:00:00 | by Carosuel | [ Reply to This ] | I tell you what if it's a choice between a really good latte with a couple of extra shots of espresso? and | a nubile young thing . Well if it is 5am and I have to get up the latte might be the fastest way to get me to rise. | Posted on 2012-10-21 00:00:00 | by DaleP | [ Reply to This ] | |