After midnight
fingers grip
chain link fence
dogs bark disapproval
as the moon frisbee
tosses across the lap pool
out of the mouth’s reach
a nervous unbuttoning
the quick unzip
time to see if our
puzzle pieces fit
a silky dark dip
tread water inside each other
arms and legs in full motion
throats croaking in the shadows
no galaxy in sight,
skinnydipping after midnight.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Leave a reply to Jim W. Cancel reply