Each break including summer holidays <br />I'd slave for heavy industry to make some dough. <br />Fell into bed at eight and had no time <br />for R & R nor any other girl. <br /> <br />When school resumed I feared <br />that the acquired calluses would be <br />at best gazed at with some disdain. <br />And that they were, to my chagrin. <br /> <br />I metamorphed into a chaste and sober guy, <br />afraid of being dumped by lips that kissed. <br />Hence it was logical that we took walks <br />along the Mississippi banks, and in the snow, <br />submersed in silent mode, mile after frosty mile. <br /> <br />A week had passed when she woke up <br />to ask about the clouds on our horizon. <br />I mumbled of the sacredness of her soft skin, <br />in need of being kept, free of the blemishes <br />of blue collar worker's hands, I held them high <br />to amplify my rationale. It made her smile. <br /> <br />That wistful smile which had attracted me that day <br />under fluorescent lights, when Gods had been too kind. <br />She took my heavy hand and placed it, lovingly <br />upon her breast. And then she kissed me once. <br />It was the grace of love I never did forget.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-breast/
