How close does she feel from me?
Is an answer I quite know well?
Feeling the touch of her exterior body,
Rubbing against mine: to fulfill one’s wishes.
The atmosphere is different,
We both don’t feel like solid cement.
There’s one thing we love to do,
And that is using all means of communicating.
Her cheeks feel warm and round,
Her happiness, one that is joyfully shown all around.
Her clothes, loosely being walked from place to place,
Her mannerisms are all in, only thoughtful grace.
Dictating expressions of daily on comings,
The small bird that is still humming,
The innocence of life’s expectancy,
Crowding and drowning me with such beaut thoughts.
Imagining her physique and figure,
Touching, just touching myself at rest.
There’s no solution to depart these wonderful emotions,
As we in company, share each other’s search.
During these ongoing composition of thoughts,
I awake from a self-hypnotic dream,
And listening to that feminine voice,
Asking me for an answer to a question.
Stunned, that had drifted away in dream,
I replied to her so that she could understand.
Slamming the telephone, annoyed with myself,
I realized that I am thankful that Carla is a phone call away.
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