“Cleavage to Mississippi and thirty-two miles to go”

She was perceived too nice for comfort
and came with a very nice pair of shoes
She slipped reserved into my daydream
with her shoehorn and cellophane moans
She would enjoy a trip to the wine country
drives to Napa Valley and Sonoma vineyards
then when I negotiated those curving hills
she whispered that she wore no underwear
underneath her mid-length yellow sundress
while she then paraphrased a devious smile
and I tried hard pretending I did not hear her
but she already saw that my face turned red
She leaned far back in her seat and giggled
knowing that we had thirty-two miles to go

We passed traffic when I accelerated
sitting quietly with the wind in our hair
in anticipation of our hotel destination
with reservations in my front pocket
that were burning a hole in my shirt
while imagining our night of passion
where I would pluck aromatic petals
straight from a salmon-colored rose
I could no longer avoid her cleavage
as it ran almost down to Mississippi
and where I was caught in a current
in where better men nearly drowned
and still we had thirty-two miles to go

She turned up the volume on a salsa song
where she would then sing in a sultry tone
as I glanced over at her in all her splendor
She crossed her legs and hiked her dress
smiling in yellow at sixty-five miles an hour
while my heart was running close to ninety
as I was dressed in intimate thoughts of her
and way too nervous to even close my eyes
even with all the beautiful scenery passed
even with her treasures spilled before me
I could only think of the evening to come
and still yet we had thirty-two miles to go

Time for me froze in the blink of an eye
and I could not concentrate on anything
except the image of this girl next to me
straight from a daydream on the highway
in a yellow sundress and very nice shoes
with cleavage all the way to Mississippi
and her teasing previews of exotic nights
and legs that usurped a thousand dreams
preempting cool, calm and collected head
scattering my breath to the stars above
when the bedroom whispers prevailed
and the candles would burn all around
somehow I knew I would awaken alone
there with only thirty-two miles left to go

© 2007 Amor Sabor