Sunday Is For Vampire


 

“Dig if you will a picture, of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me…” Never’ve been a big fan of Prince, but that song will always bring a smile. Why? You’ll never be old enough to know. Can’t say I shouldn’t have because I did. I’d wondered if it could happen to me, if I could have a fling and something to smile about should we pass each other and say good morning. I needed it. What followed was disastrous but this was before all that. I was satisfied to let it go. He wouldn’t. Why do men have to possess, own, conquer? Fool! Not me, I actually had it together. That’s ok, though it’s not ok, but what I mean is when I hear that song I can still feel that morning, standing on the back porch thinking, feeling the sweat of my body covering him, watching the cold and mist rising off the ground that refreshed, the heightened sense of awareness, of sight, the clarity of sound each time I played it feeling it inside me. Did he tell me to stop? I don’t think I cared. He might have made a comment but it fell away. I was new and done with it.

 

He wasn’t.

 

 

 

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