Slight Of Tongue.

I reach with my hand under her short skirt, on this pleasant autumn day.

It's good to see you again, I say.

She says nothing, so the story goes.

Don't need to tell me, I already know.

Quiver of her bum, goosebumps on her thighs, slender fair arms, long flowing black hair, straight by design, sways like a flag in the breeze.

As I so delicately, firmly, stillness in her gaze, expirate, red painted nails, glossy sommerset, earthy of colour and of taste.

Fingertips wrapped around her bum, marks of my kiss upon her neck, arm hugs her womanly hips, clean lines and smooth curves of her breasts, neck brushes with my lips, here together one and the same, leaves fall around us, stencils and gradients of earthy colour, whispers for me my love, crisp and unscripted, organic, like our toes with the earth, meanders up her neck, quietly whispers into her ear, inner desires and thoughts like the leaves, this pleasant autumn day.

Good to see you again, I say.

Walks among the leaves, heels and toes of her feet, loving kiss on her cheek.

I love her. Unspoken word, but she already knows. Can not deny these Feelings for her, deeper than words, like this pleasant autumn day, leaves fall around us, one and the same.