by Morgan Stone Grether
Soft beams flickering in the evening air,
The sunlight catches the angled edge of her face,
As she looks up at him, into his eyes.
Here time is meaningless.
Sounds drop away to distant murmurs. Shadows dance.
His fingertips dance too, up her arm to her shoulder,
And she bites her lower lip with a devilish smile.
His hand slides up the back of her neck,
And she opens her mouth with a long, low gasp.
He gently pulls her toward him,
Hot skin pushing into hot skin. They kiss.