The car windows are steamy.
My chest is warm and bare.
My fingers tingle, running
Gently through her golden hair.
Her chin is in my fingers
And I pull her lips to mine.
Our tongues do dance a tango
That defines the word divine.
I pause, she gasps and whimpers
But I say “I’ll be back soon.”
I step into the parking lot
Beneath the crescent moon.
I can read “humane society”
Despite the evening fog.
I tell the clerk “I’ll take her,”
And that’s how I met my dog.