Grin

The sound of us breathing heavy, the windows of the Oldsmobile sweating as I worked my hands up your shirt. The beads you got in New Orleans. Venturing beyond the tan line. Feeling the softness as we slow danced, grinning, with my chin just off your shoulder. Buying you that scoop neck sweater for Christmas. Pressing my ear tight, listening to your heart. The off the shoulder dress that left me speechless; “My eyes are up here” you said with a playful smirk. Despite our deepest affection some things are taken; and yet, some are unshaken. As I caress and kiss your scars, it is you that makes me grin