Mrs. Conway

…and it is
a naked Mrs. Conway
stepping into the bedroom
renewed from the shower
dripping black hair
clinging to her back
relaxed
steps
she turns
and I wish I was
the small kisses of water
tasting the skin
between her breasts
perhaps the smell of Lux soap
mixed with moist steamed air
the fragrance of lavender shampoo
feeling its way to the bed
is what makes me smile
flowers and perfume that fills the silence
she is prettier without makeup
tiny wrinkles
in the corners of her eyes
little holes
and scars on her cheeks
faint blue bruises on her thighs
she lost her youthful shape a long time ago
but time exchanged it for something
more beautiful
elegance
it’s a sin if not shared with anyone
appreciating the beauty
of a woman’s flesh
she walks to the bed
warm liquid dripping on the pillow
and finds the TV remote
from somewhere between the frenzied sheets
wet hands play with the buttons
and she sees
a drunk
Dudley Moore
a good smile for an early Monday morning
I do believe it is Mrs. Conway
who changes the channel again
an old black and white music video
Jim Morrison
falling around on stage
“…come on baby light my fire…”
he was probably high
I used to play this song on the guitar
when I was younger
but forgot the chords
now I just make love to it
it works better for me
and it ends
with a slow talk about nothing special
and her voice
easy-going and kind
with the first sun
and a while later
I say goodbye
and Mrs. Conway walks naked to her balcony
letting me find the front door by myself
and down in the street
I know
she watches me walk down the quiet lane
before the rush hour traffic
before the day knew
what we had done
I turn and wave goodbye
and she smiles again
because she knows
she really does have
beautiful breasts...


Conrad Kruger van den Bergh (Copyright, 2017)

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