Saturday, September 07, 2013

Contrition inside a foggy window

In the dark splashing rain I stop the car. 
Thanks are given,  kind words said,
A hug,  a peck on the cheek before exiting and then it happens.
Our lips meet.
Our actual lips
Actually meet.
It is brief,  it is asexual,  it is innocent.
gratitude expressed with an every day gesture,
She knows of my past sins, 
Of my ridiculous youth
She knows of my inane babble.
But briefly she indicates that these
may not make a mockery of long held hopes.
Briefly,  with her lips,  and my lips
She grants me hope again
I drive home that night smiling.

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