Saturday, February 22, 2014
The full moon unleashed the ghostly night into the air
The moss hung from the trees like long horrific fingers
I walked slowly through the old graveyard, bare-footed, caressing the moist grass
My dress curled in the wind, as I waited in old Bonaventure.
The ghosts were in the air, the old dog pack racing through the gravestones
The weeping statue of Gracie Watson, softly filled the air
A dinner party of apparitions laughed in the breeze
I smiled as I felt his presence nearing, as I waited in old Bonaventure.
His breath slowly traveled down my spine as I felt his warm hands around my waist
He slid my dress straps down baring my soul to the midnight sky
I turned to him, kissed him with a fiery passion as we collapsed to the ground
Intertwining as one
Lips moaning together
Hands exploring each other
On the grounds of old Bonaventure.
The secret was safe
Safe with the ghosts who roamed the grounds for eternity
The night of passion and infidelity would be buried on the grounds of old Bonaventure.