PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We met one balmy Aug. night, after knowing eachother for so long. We had talked a few times on the phone. His voice sounded different than I thought it would, but I still found it warm and inviting. I had just left the plane and went to the hotel, he knew what room I would have, and was waiting there. He gave a slight bow and a warm smile before gently pressing his lips to my hand. I must say that the pictures of him I have don't do him justice, and his smile, though not perfect, is full of feeling. I return the warm smile with one of my own, feeling my cheeks redden slightly. He looks from me to my bags then offers to help take them up. I accept, thought I could myself. I find myself impressed with his manners and catch myself staring at his butt as he bends to pick the two overnight bags up. I can't believe how nervous I am. I've knowing him more intemently than anyone else in my life. These last seven months have been great, I felt myself open more and more to him, sharing my most intememnt secretes, those noone else knew about till now. I reach the desk and give them my name. Getting the key we head up to find the room. I am still getting used to all this. I start getting jitters. I wore the same red outfit that I was wearing in the first picture I sent him. The sleeveless dress was perfect for the heat. As he opens the door to the place I will live these next three days I think back to how we met.