Scraping naked x-socks-hugged feet
against dust-dry sand
as the waves expire
absurdly on the beach
while shoulder-to-shoulder
we soak up the sun
with our unclothed heads,
I can’t help but notice
how you look cuddly in grey.
Munching and counting long
golden logs of Hines-soaked
chips on an outdoor table
beneath the reeling mews
and the autumn sky
while smile-to-smile
deep in conversation
over your chest I see
you look cuddly in grey.
When the day leaves the
bedroom window and the
trees get caught in the blackened
sky and all is quiet except
the wind and the settling
floors I throw my arms
around you and feel your
strong squeeze reminding me
how cuddly you are in grey.
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