The grass
starts to stain
my shoulder blades
and I realize
that the blanket has slipped;
this not the time
to rearrange it.
So caught up in the motion-
the swing of your hair
across your face,
afternoon sun flashing highlights,
your hips on mine,
your eyes shining in shadow.
Lost in the feel
of the fabric;
the skirt pulled up
around your waist,
cold metal zipper
between our skins.
Sounds of children playing
on the other side of the hill
while we play our own game,
enjoying the danger
that someone might catch us
meeting in the park.
Originally published July 2007 - "Sexy Success"