Can you see my grin from there?

Oh, the beginning, the getting to know, the first kisses and hand holding, the butterflies, the fantasies you project on your mind's eye about what may or may not come to pass...that's the good stuff. It's easy to let moments like that pass you by, so I'm slowing down, savoring it, letting its sweetness glide over my taste buds and sink in slowly.

I, uh, had a second date last night. She is enchanting. It was all the flirting and conversation and touching and kissing a second date should be. It left the right traces, like footprints in the sand, leading to an unknown destination.

I'm wearing the afterglow of a well spent evening, in a haze of hands and lips, of averted eyes and engaging conversation.

I'm in my back alley imagining a time where cars never need pass and wounds don't need tending and there are no morning alarm clocks, where hands are free to roam slowly, where time is suspended, where kisses are uninterrupted.

I'm tucking a second meeting into my memory this morning, blowing a kiss to the winds of fate or chance or circumstance that brought the moment onto my horizon, with a whispered, "Thank you," on my tongue.

I'm imagining the slide of her skin into third base, the pitch of her into my arms. Shy/bold. Soft/strong. Ball capped. Soft lipped. Enchanting in her softball afterglow. She's elevated her batting average. Has all the potential to hit one home.

Can you see my grin from there?

June 29, 2001