We Walk by Amber Decker

along the Potomac River at sunset,

his fingers dipping under 

the hem of my t-shirt,

tracing circles on my back.

Turtles bubble up 

to the surface in the brown water,

red and black-swirled shells reflecting 

the soft glow of lights 

from the Interstate bridge

suspended above. 

As the dark settles in 

and the rush of traffic slows, he 

slips his hand into mine, pulls me 

down next to him

in the mud and grass

and suddenly we're kissing,

making out 

like horny teenagers, 

lips and tongues and hands

frantic and everywhere,

until even our speech

has dissolved into wordless

animal warbles, 

with nothing but the water

and the sky

and the turtles

left to tell anyone how

sweet the night air feels

running loose 

across plains of bare skin

and how even the coyotes

in the fields nearby 

fall quiet

and leave the moon for us

to sing to.

Amber Decker is a poet from West Virginia who has been published extensively in both print and online venues. She is a lover of horses, hooded sweatshirts, dark chocolate, fantasy novels, werewolf movies and red wine. She also spends a ridiculous amount of time at the gym working on her anger management issues. Her most recent chapbook,True North, was released in September 2013 and is available from Maverick Duck Press.