I never waited for a call. When the phone rings it startles me. Sunday night was a week long. I recall your ‘thigh-highs’ when we loved. I had a dream we danced again and they were all you wore.

A girl wore them in a bar. Her legs were crossed, skirt short, and she might have been you. I close my eyes…you’re there. I called and hung-up on Tuesday. I can’t face the gym.

When we first met you took my hand and placed it between your thighs. “I’m so wet for you”, it was a whisper. I need to move on…and it’s getting hard to see you…but you’re there.