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"Larry Mayfield"
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To:
"Lydia Percy"
Lydia,
I have no right to say - what I am about to say.
After all, I am just a Cowboy Somewhere in Texas.
Beads of sweat, this Texas sun is hot...
Hot it is, kinda like you,
refresh, a viscous brew.
Licking lips,
droplets, pouring off my brow, my nose.
Not round. The beadlets try to hang on.
Click - a pictured pose.
Not letting go until the last moment,
its salty scent,
grasping, each contorting, transforming,
a saturated wet...
Is it a heart-shaped bead of sweat?
Seeping from an inner sanctum,
kinda like you,
hot inside, not one, but two.
Content with life, a purring hum.
You offer me a sip of juice
from a rivered sluice
to quench my thirst,
a bubbled burst,
a feebled excuse cannot deduce...
Seduce a mind, lest not confined
and draw. Create a design,
continual like cursive,
intertwine, no end.
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