Lets hold hands. Lets pretend that day is night and that birds can talk. While we're at it lets stroke the frogs and ask the moon not to tell anyone we're here by ourselves. Mother doesnt have to know, father doesnt have to know. Ah the joys of young love. Young love on his part though for there is nothing young about the sag of my 59year old breasts and the lines of laughter that have framed my eyes.
I say young on his part but he is only young at heart. Nothing about his 60year old frame is young but when i look at him I am transported back 45years when we first met. The world was new and fresh and ours. Those were the days when we didn't have to pretend that day was night and the moon didnt tell a soul we were out by ourselves. Mother didnt know, Father didnt know.
I grasp his hand and lean in to kiss him. It is saturated with years of love and understanding. It is unlike the kisses we shared ages ago, ones that left us breathless, led to broken glasses and the police knocking on our door to ask us why there was so much noise. This kiss however says 'you've always been the one'. He looks back and i know he understands, we've never needed words. Mother always knew Father always knew.~
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