"Why are you staring at me like that," she said;
And I looked her in the eyes and said, "Because
you are still hot, even after 36 years."
She said, "That's the liquor talking. You're drunk."
"I prefer to think of it as applying balm to my
"You'd prefer to get in my pants," she said.
I thought for a moment.
"Actually, I'd prefer that you weren't wearing
any pants. But I've given up on preferences."
She said, "Pour me one."
Sunlight on Buzzard's Bay.
January 14, 2009.
Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.