Laura

I had the opportunity to write something sensual about her. It was a time when I was tired, fed up, wrung out till there was no moisture in me. Sometimes now I touch myself and I am slippery wet. So odd to feel this after years without. It has something to do with new beginnings I suppose, an odd kind of excitement, the potential for joy. She kisses me on the cheek and it is caring, care-full. It is a show of affection and I could feel myself slip down beside her. Slippery girls the two of us both.

We would have fun, we two. We would enjoy the play. We would do voices and throw our clothes around the room and laugh. I would lie and watch her, endlessly fascinated, I would hold her and listen. All this in another life, another time. These lives I long for when my own feels arthritic, paining me at the joints. I think of Laura because it would be easy, joyous, lovely. Lovely. She is lovely. Tomorrow, as always, she will kiss me and I will smile and there will be a small moist place in me perfect for growing the kernel of our affection.