Slight stirrings of slumber
lifting their heavy traces from our entwined figures in the late morning brought us to murmur mini kisses
into wherever skin met mouth, wanting to waste the day away in an oxytocin coma.
Not even the thrum of rain woke us up,
but it was brought to our attention that we were both ravenous.
Whispers and nods on the matter of waffles,
and then at a snail pace we remained loyal to the pursuit of our destination. To the cafeteria we walked not hand in hand,
but side by side,
enveloped in a dry space
surrounded by a world of maddening wet.
He held the umbrella.