Paper

Pencil scratches smooth surface
She breathes with each stroke of her utensil
She anticipates her creation
The want builds more and more with each line, shade, and tint
She could remember him
Her man
His eyes brown and searching
His mouth as he smiles at her and whispers sweet nothings
His hands those talented hands
Hands that read her like book
His hands are the author of that book
Every curve of his pen is outlined about her body
She can remember it
She can feel it
Her pencil falters mid stroke
She pauses to catch her breath
As the memories of words whispered across the pillow rushes to her mind
She lay down

He is here- placing his palm on smooth surface
Caresses it
Molds it
Folds it
He begins to write
Each letter is embedded on the smooth surface
He writes gracefully
He writes boldly
He writes of beauty
He reached the climax of his written piece
His pen rushes across the surface
He is satisfied with the conclusion
He folds his writing
Holds it to his heart

She is satisfied with her masterpiece
She is complete
She hears his heart beating steadily
She feels his warmth
He feels her warmth
Strokes smooth surface
Not with a utensil
But with love and content
As she kisses the smooth lips with words of sweet nothings
Time to put more marks on another paper
Presses lips against smooth surface as you whisper sweet nothings…