Boiling Point – a poem

Boiling Point I invited you in for left-over paella and a coffee. Naturally, inevitably, our lips found one another in the kitchen, Hands moving up shirts, around necks, Fumbling half-heartedly around waist bands. The paella was in the microwave for 4 minutes and we didn’t stop for breath Or at least it seemed that way as steam fogged up the window and trickled Down in … Continue reading Boiling Point – a poem