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Cayton Cox
- United States
- Last Record: 2013-04-02 16:51:14 -0700
- Joined: Feb 08, 2013
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He remembers the kiss
Not the first
Cool touch of lips
But The Kiss,
Up against the water cooler
In the hallway by Section B
The long, warm journey into Her
Like going back into himself
Somewhere safe
Like Sunday morning under the blankets
Watching black and whites
With a steaming mug of bitter coffee
Yes, Coffee.
She had stepped back from him
And begun to undress, right there in the hall
Her fragile brown body
Too tangible under the strip lighting,
That it made her surreal,
Like the coffee machine
Had become confused
And poured out molten woman instead
[an image tale of 'the office party' by red-sequin]