Drunken Laughter

You seemed so familiar to me

because I had heard the sweet symphony

of your laughter before

It was a night not too long ago

and I desired you immediately.

It sort of rolled over to me

parting the thick clouds of smoke

up and over the loud colored suits

and bright bursts of glee,

and broke crashing into my ear –

startling and wonderful like

a wave crashing against a rocky cape.

It then settled and dripped slowly

into my blood stream

intoxicating my senses and

nestled at the threshold of my intimate places.

I wanted to settle down with it.

I wanted to run it through my curl hair like hot oil in the morning shower

and breath it in through a mouth open wide like menthol before bed.

Let it blow gently over my shoulders,

caressing away any burden

The sound was full and satisfying

inviting and delightfully suggestive of a strength

It reminded me of the Monet that hangs above my bed –

dizzying

with color and a mixture of depth and light.

It was both hearty and tender

I wanted to stroll with your laughter…

…tickling my toes like grains of sand.

It was a sound that encouraged a response,

so I let loose a laugh that could only reflect my mood

drowsy and floating

blue-gray

slowly slipping from my thick lips

and spiraled up around the exposed shoulders

of the women giggling into the chests of their dates

and diffused gently into your emerald-green bottle.

Inviting you to drink me in completely.

Not wanting to let your laughter disperse along with the crowd

I folded it neatly into a blue-green napkin

and placed it in my clutch

And since then

I would dab

dab

dab

your laughter

behind my ears

in the crease of my knees

in the small of my back

and on the places that make me womanish

each and every time

I needed

to run loosed

over grains of sand

or rocked gently by the waves of brown, strong arms.

I would unfold your laughter in to me