Love Under the Umbrella
A daring moment of bliss in his kiss
Love Under the Umbrella
It rained all morning, soft and sly,
the kind of rain that makes you lie
and say you’ll wait, but wander close
to where he stands and dampness shows.
His coat’s too thin, mine’s not zipped up,
one broken brolly, one paper cup.
The street is empty, time folds in,
his breath a question on my skin.
We share the curve, a crooked dome,
a rusting frame, our makeshift home.
My shoulder fits against his chest,
no need to speak, no need to rest.
The drops grow bold, the wind gets brave,
he tilts it back to see my face.
A look that lingers, lips that hum,
no sudden moves, I do not run.
The kiss begins behind the mist,
no perfect lines, just hand and wrist,
his fingers trail along my waist,
my body warms with every taste.
The brolly sways, we barely care,
the world could end and we’d still dare.
The rain soaks through, it cools my thighs,
his mouth says things his voice denies.
He lifts the hem, I press in close,
no crowd to hush us, none to know.
The pavement slick, the sky like glass,
my gasp, his grip, the moment passed.
It isn’t fast, it isn’t sweet,
my back to stone, his breath in heat.
We move like hush, like whispered sin,
the kind that lives beneath the skin.
And when it ends, we do not part,
his hand still pressed against my heart.
One broken brolly overhead,
two strangers soaked, two lips still red.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
What a relationship and probably good memories as well. Good job.