Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I was on the bus back from Richmond where I stayed a day and night with Tilly at her uncle's place. I sat looking out the window. Richmond miles away and so was Tilly. She'd shown me around Richmond the day before (after a quick bash at *** had dinner out, saw the sights, walked in the park in the evening, then back to her uncle's place, watched TV, then bed. I saw her in my mind as the bus drove along, ********** in that room, each piece of clothing taken off with a teasing motion, then folded on a chair, then she watched as I undressed humming a tune as I did so. We got into the bed and lay there. She said: what if my mother could see us now? I didn't want to even imagine that, but she did, it seemed as if it was some kind of get back at her mother to just imagine her mother seeing us there making out. After the second time, we just lay there looking at the moon through the window, her head on my shoulder, me kissing her head, wondering what her mother would say if she'd seen us making love in the uncle's guest bed.
0
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
LOOKING BACK 1965
I was on the bus back from Richmond where I stayed a day and night with Tilly at her uncle's place. I sat looking out the window. Richmond miles away and so was Tilly. She'd shown me around Richmond the day before (after a quick bash at *** had dinner out, saw the sights, walked in the park in the evening, then back to her uncle's place, watched TV, then bed. I saw her in my mind as the bus drove along, ********** in that room, each piece of clothing taken off with a teasing motion, then folded on a chair, then she watched as I undressed humming a tune as I did so. We got into the bed and lay there. She said: what if my mother could see us now? I didn't want to even imagine that, but she did, it seemed as if it was some kind of get back at her mother to just imagine her mother seeing us there making out. After the second time, we just lay there looking at the moon through the window, her head on my shoulder, me kissing her head, wondering what her mother would say if she'd seen us making love in the uncle's guest bed.
A BOY AND GIRL IN RICHMOND 1965
TerryCollett
Written by
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem