by Carl Santoro
Today was waiting for her,
not like a diamond
waiting to be discovered.
No, more like a
simple cup of hot, freshly brewed coffee,
with its limitless possibilities
to be transformed to one's
own fanciful taste.
Before she thought to lift an eyelid,
she became aware of
her cold saliva
dripping slowly over her bare
arm muscle, tickling her armpit
with a surprise rivulet
of the salty slime.
She wiped it away with her hand,
as she allowed her eyes
to be introduced to objects
throughout her bedroom
splashed with random sunbeams,
stoic, patiently waiting for her visual visits.
Oh yes, she thought,
this is the day.
She looked over to the edge
of her mattress.
A pair of white cat paws
and two eyes were staring back at her,
as if to say, you know this is the day,
what are you waiting for?
Slowly she slid a leg
out from the sheets.
Her alarm clock began to buzz.
Right on time.
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Sometimes imagining that first cuppa is all you need. You made me her here. Especially like the penultimate stanza. *
The cat paws work exceptionally well for me in this.
The saliva is a touch of the real. lol Nice details in this.
But I want to know what's happening on this day!
*
Not sure, Charlotte. Could be a sad day ahead for her. Maybe a portion of today she has reserved for a gravesite visit...I will stand there, showering you with my thoughts of you,
and many, yes many whispered words, like softly falling rose petals, loosened from an armful of drooping heads...Not sure, Charlotte.