I dream of her sometimes.
The way she writes her words and the manner in which she puts them together is wonderful, and of course I often respond well to them.
“Hold me," she said a long time ago as we sat together at Pier 35 in the city.
The night had taken a turn and it was cold as we looked to our right and the Bay Bridge lights flickered here and there as the cars zipped along.
“Tell me what you want," I whispered softly as the cool air fell on us and the water’s mist gathered around.
“I just want you," she answered as she leaned in close and kissed me for a while.
We got a little closer and leaned into each other’s bodies as the darkness tried to fall but the full moon didn’t help.
“I want you," she said in between strong kisses as she directed my left hand inside her blouse.
I tried to slow down time but I couldn’t do it. I don’t have that kind of power, and time moved quicker still.
The beauty of the night and the loveliness of my lady overwhelmed me. I cried a tear because I knew the moment was so precious and so very fleeting.
I remember her name now and it had a nice alliteration to it, and I recall the historic hotel building too, from later that night, and I miss the fun of those places and how carefree it all was.
I didn’t know then that I should have had more fun because the fun parts always end too soon, and then the years pass by so fast and you can’t bring them back.
Live long, my friend, and love well with your lover.