Saturday went by in a delicious blur. Although I had a most excellent evening meal at Cafecito, I don't feel in the mood of posting the pictures and the meal; it was good, but not excellent, ya know? I think I enjoyed the experience more than anything.
So here's yesterday's poem. It's a first draft and I wrote it while riding home late at night while sleeping, so don't judge! Plus, I expect that the work will get better with every day I write, since it's been one hell of a while.
Untitled
There's something about the way
my skin feels when you touch me.
You can reach across the table
in this tiny, cramped restaurant
fake candles illuminating your smile
and with the pad of your finger on the
back of my hand you can remind
my thighs of the way they feel wrapped
around your hips and my neck will
shiver in memory of your lips and
there's something about the way
the touch of your finger
makes me want to speak
of love, love, love.
© Yazcaminante
Alright y'all - I'm off to Jackson, MS. I hope to be updating you with Southern food goodness soon.
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