Red winter reeds…


The red winter reeds bend in the wind and the rushing sound they make as they brush against each other reminds me of your hands on my bare skin.

Far away and in a cold, wintery place, you work. But here it is warm, and I spend time outdoors, away from my desk.

Walking in the park I imagined taking your hands in mine, across the distance, and warming them… blowing on them… tucking them inside my coat, pulling you to me, tightly.

But now I am not thinking of warming your hands. Inside my jacket they are warm enough. They press against the sides of my breasts, and my coat comes off, and the weather matters not, and there is just the heat that flows between us as I pull you to the ground.

I would have you.



Amidst the reeds.

Fast and hard, before the snow seeps through our clothes.

Photo by W. Merganser

~ by Molly Montrevoir on December 30, 2006.

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