Jazzy Sunday and some simple words.

She was dancing alone. Moving her bare feet slow and easy to the Jazz songs. She looked into my eyes and she waved me to come to her. I watched her sexy hips move slowly and I went to her.

I held her hips softly and I fell into the movement of her body. I whispered I am so damn old and you are tempting my Devil’s heart. You made me crave and wonder what we could become?

Her emerald eyes looked into my eyes and she whispered. Johnnie, Johnnie. You ain’t old till we give-up. Did you give-up Johnnie. I feel your hands on my skin and I like when you kiss my neck so softly. I don’t feel dead-man hands, I feel hungry hands, the sweetest kiss offered and I want us to drink more, dance more and you to write on my wanting skin. Poetry of love that wants and wants more. I want someone who loved my voice, the jazz and the sea. I like how you look at me. You make me feel wild, brave and fearless. I need someone to dance with me, talk to me and drink the Johnnie Walker hard. Make me feel alive and so damn good. I see in your eyes Johnnie. You want me, you want everything and more. Is there more Johnnie?

I kissed her neck and her face. I told her. You are my wild river, you are my dangerous storm. You create rage, you create boldness and I want to take you away to the Lake Superior. We can find a cabin, dance with the lake, drink the Johnnie Walker and I will write poetry on your tender skin. We will dance bare-ass to the hottest jazz till we become one in the words of the songs. In the midnights hours, you are I. Can create rhythm and verse for the moon and the stars.

She smiled and she brought her hips closer against me and she told me. My overnight bag is in the car. You promised me Lake Superior, you promise me a thousand poems. I am here and I expect payment. I am tire of being sad and Johnnie, you make me smile. Will I drive honey?

Coyote