You were cold after diving, <br />your wet suit still clinging, <br />you said I could warm you <br />with my own body heat, <br />you seemed so small and <br />vulnerable, I kissed you all <br />over, tasting salty sea sand, <br />your body grew warmer and <br />hard to the touch, it was <br />exciting, you kissed me back, <br />that nearly started another <br />attack, you said it’s called <br />making love, I couldn’t see <br />the difference, you were <br />offended, you said I was <br />recalcitrant, I said it was <br />aggression, I never saw <br />you so angry, you called <br />me an Alien and asked <br />where I was from, I said <br />Planet Parish, I thought <br />you would hit me, but you <br />kissed me, said you would <br />make me yours if it was the <br />last thing you did, it might <br />very well be that, the way <br />it was going, then you <br />attacked and I counter- <br />attacked, it’s called <br />making love…<br /><br />Louise Tredoux<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-called-making-love/
