Barry White and Sam Cooke on a Sunday Afternoon
By Anthony E
Resting your head on the curve of my shoulder
Silent breathing, a whisper in time
The needle drops as the winds get colder
A welcoming blanket intertwined
.
The static of the song lingers in the air
The bouquet of your skin fills my lungs
Barry White crooning in our ears
You’re the first, the last, my everything
.
Not to yield from this moment
Lest I forget just how I feel
Our enmity lies dormant
Replaces the act with the real
.
The needle drops again, eyes take a look
Your head reposing on my shoulder, so true
A tone of affection, the sound of Sam Cooke
Darling you send me, honest you do, honest you do...
Author Notes: Times are sometimes best when you are not doing anything.
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