Church Basement

I once read my poetry
In a old church basement
Every Thursday night
Poetic Collage,
Across the whole spectrum
Of age, race and gender
I'd read a poem aloud
With my heart in my hand,

I was oh-so young then
Unsure of my work
You usually commented
You liked what your heard,
Offered slight suggestions
Always a positive light
I'd often dream about you
Later that night,

One Thursday evening
After the group was done
We walked out together
Into the rainy night,
You asked if I was busy
I said nothing much
We walked to your apartment
A dozen blocks away,

You made cups of tea
Dripped in molten honey
Twenty years my senior
You thought I was funny,
Said you liked my poems
I said I liked yours too
And then you asked
What I'd like to do,

So we set there reading
Poems into the night
The glow of a dozen candles
A sensual delight,
And then we make love
I was timid, you were sweet
And for the rest of the winter
Every Thursday we would meet,