Southern Style

Sunday morning, southern style
mid-day boarding pass
I run my finger down her spine
across her Dixie ass,
She speaks with liquid vowels
likes her tea too sweet
rolls her body to my side
and our lips meet,

Half asleep, half awake
one foot out the door
clothes we wore late last night
scattered ‘cross the floor,
We make love, we discuss
should I stay, or go
touches each part of me
says she doesn’t know,

Uber booked at ten a.m.
she says: plenty time
show some southern charm
I close my eyes, recline,
Feel her weight upon me
like a southern breeze
feel myself inside her
hands on boney knees,

Makes love like she speaks
with lazy, fluid strokes
the journey, not the destination
one of the common folks,
But then, the final moment
we both gasp for air
I pull her tight against me
grasp her golden hair,

In the outdoor shower
we soap each other clean
makes us strong back coffee
my love, and Seldom Seen,
The Uber guy is texting
one minute, he’ll be here
and I watch her fade away
in the rear-view mirror,