The Night Has Just Begun
by Morgan Stone Grether
I found your photo in a dusty old corner.
I picked it up and held it close to my eyes.
It seemed like you were here with me.
And that felt good, damn good. And even better
Was when I kissed the photo. My lips
Against you -- in a manner of speaking -- tricked my brain
Into thinking all sorts of silly thoughts,
Silly, wonderful thoughts, that had been buried for a while.
Thoughts like: the way I followed the flowing, changing colors of your hair.
The way I listened to you breathe as you spoke.
The way when our eyes met a great bonfire ignited within my chest,
A white-hot passion that could forge precious metals.
And questions like: do you ever think of me now?
And would you answer the phone if I called?
And would you answer the door if I came round?
And would you kiss me back when I tried to kiss you?
The summer night would sit on the city lights
Which sparkle and twinkle like stars through your blinds.
And I would say things like: "There's no lovelier woman on earth."
And you'd laugh a reply like, "Enough with your boring compliments."
You push me down onto the sofa
And straddle me, running your hands through my hair.
My hands reach up to yours. I feel your fingers,
Then move to your wrists, your arms, your shoulders.
"I should go," I say, "It's getting so late."
You bite my ear with a wicked laugh,
And we feel each other's heaving chest
As we breathe hotly into each other's face.
"I should stay," I say, "The night has just begun.”