RDP Sunday — SOMETHING
He dug up every letter, faded concert ticket and a carefully folded panty from that magical night when he turned 19 and she spent that first night with him
and ran back to her.
She wrote a poem and signed it with a little picture she doodled with a shaky hand of her cradling her naked breasts
and she opined
that they were
Forever soulmates, let’s run away to Italy and you can eat my pasta while I listen to you play guitar in the moonlight under my window
and with this song of love in hand she ran towards him crying in ecstasy with each step she took.
By the time they met, in that enchanted place they would call home
40 years had flown by without them
and the Grim Reaper was there too
at their housewarming
singing a song under their window with a scythe in one hand and a pair of panties and a handful of poems written in a shaky hand in the other.
Before he knocked the Reaper wondered
as he sometimes did
if these fragile souls needed something to live for
why some of them settled for something that wasn’t there
when there was so much around them