He sends me a photo of baby smooth cheeks turned upward by a half-smile from soft seductive lips, and recalling the beard that formerly framed his face, a reminiscence stirs. A memory we have not yet made – tender and sharp, spun from longing and trust – gathers in gossamer strands, forming a clear picture in my mind’s eye.
Soaped skin and blade.
“I think I would like that,” he says.
And I smile, counting the days.
.
It’ll be a close shave.
Oh yes,,a shave 🙂
Oh yes… 🙂
I love the playfulness in this and it makes me think, “I wanna play” in a very two year old voice. 🙂
Have fun
Oh, I intend to. 😀