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The poet and the naked lady
I fell in love with a long legged woman, her eyes of never-ending questions and her flowing auburn hair stole my voice and my eyes. I ate breakfast with her every morning after physical training for many months to listen to her talk of life and great dreams. She was almost six foot tall, beautiful tan legs and the devilish smile of the Devil.
One morning she asked me. You never ask me to roam with you. You are known to everyone, as the suicide boarder of the sea and the free-climbers of every mountain from Big Sur to Washington state. You are the soldier poet in Monterey. You do not like me?
I told her. I didn’t want to lose your friendship. You are a special part of my life and I didn’t want you to think I was…
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