She can barely look at me, not because she is disappointed in me, but because she misses me already. Her hidden tears remind me that to this my lady, I will always be her baby boy.
She looks at me with relief, to her I am her miracle, this young man whose mom filled her world with laughter a few decades back, now been tasked with taking her to see her beloved.
She can look at me and she does so as an acquaintance, a fellow wayfarer, a companion to spend these long uneventful hours that are a prelude to the untold joys to come.
Her gaze draws me in. Eyes fair in salutation and adoration, whisperings of her wealth and beauty clearly not understatements. She is adorned in bling. Gold, silver diamond, rutile bauxite and of course a lady’s best friend. Her natural curves are a sight to behold. Enhanced, her contours and peaks just cry out to be mounted and enjoyed with time and not ravished with reckless abandon. Now I allow those eyes to envelope me. At last I am in my lady…..sorry, our lady’s bosom.
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