Poetry in motion
A hymn in human form
Eyes so dark and warm
Prowling petty men
The lioness leaves her den
Devouring helpless prey
They would wish no other way
The scent of camomile
Lending lush depths
To her beauty
‘Hey,’ Kent protested as Sue plucked the notebook from his grasp.
She sat down next to him on the sofa and frowned as she read the page. ‘This is dreadful.’
Kent frowned and took it back. ‘You might recall that I didn’t ask your opinion.’
‘You need someone’s opinion,’ she said. ‘You tried to rhyme “cruelty” and “beauty.” They don’t rhyme, Kent.’
He closed the notebook and tucked it into his messenger bag. ‘I mostly just liked the idea of camomile and cruelty,’ he admitted.
‘Like Arsenic and Old Lace perhaps?’ she suggested.
Kent pouted. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
Sue kissed him. ‘I’m not dating you for your terrible poetry.’
‘It’s been quite a while since I wrote any,’ he admitted, unbuttoning her blouse.
Sue untied her hair and shook it out. ‘Please tell me that you weren’t a moody teenager writing angsty poetry in your bedroom.’
‘It was for a Creative Writing class,’ he said, unbuckling his belt. ‘It wasn’t my favourite part, but I wasn’t that bad at it.’
Sue lay down, pulling him on top of her. ‘Stick to the novels.’
‘You haven’t read any of them.’
‘I’m confident they must be better than the poetry.’
It had been an exciting day. Sue did not like excitement and saw no reason why she should be expected to put up with it at work. However, the excitement had put Kent in an interesting mood, and she had no complaints about that. He’d been too hyped up to even drive home to his place in Alexandria and instead they’d ended up parking up along a deserted alleyway and… letting off some steam.
Sue left Kent napping on the sofa. The adrenalin had taken quite a toll. Sue didn’t have that problem herself. She was still prickling with the ebbing energy. Perhaps she should wake Kent up and burn it off. She smiled a little at the thought.
He looked younger when he was asleep. Softer and more open. It wasn’t that he was a particularly closed person. There were times when he told Sue far more than she was comfortable hearing. She didn’t dwell on the past. It wasn’t healthy. She believed in moving forward.
Sue raided the kitchen for something to eat. Some cheese in the fridge would be neatly paired with crackers from the pantry and some grapes from the fruit bowl. She considered the handful of bottles of wine in the rack and selected a sweet white.
She gave Kent a gentle shake as she sat down on the sofa. He stretched out like a cat before he sat up.
‘What’re we doing?’ he muttered, his voice slightly thickened with sleep.
‘Having a snack.’
He straightened up and slid his arm around her back, kissing her neck. ‘You’re a snack.’
Sue snorted. ‘Don’t you dare use that terrible teenage speak to me.’
‘I apologise for finding you attractive.’ Kent took a cracker and a piece of cheese from her plate.
‘Apologise for crimes against the English language.’
‘English is a living language,’ Kent said, taking the wine from her hand and taking a sip.
‘Cheek,’ Sue grumbled.
‘Aren’t these from my kitchen?’ Kent asked.
‘That’s not the point,’ she said.
He chuckled and kissed her neck. Sue gave him an amused look.
‘Why don’t you go get another plate and glass of wine and we’ll take this upstairs,’ she suggested.
Kent rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. ‘I’d like that.’
Sue stood up as he wandered over to the kitchen. She picked up the plate and the glass, before padding upstairs. It had been an exciting day but that was okay. She had enjoyed spending time during the day with Kent. She didn’t normally spend much time with him during the day. She was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with him.