Dippity Doo Wop

Smokey sings out from the turntable, and I feel hands on my waist.

“Come here.”   My guy says to me.

I try to shoo him away, but he is having none of it.

“Somebody has to do the chores,” I say.

“That can wait.  Dance with me,” He says, folding me closer as we slowly rock.

I pivot, putting one hand on his right shoulder and my head down on his left.
“That’s mine,” I press a kiss onto his neck, then bury my nose there, inhaling,

He runs his fingers gently down my spine and I tingle in all my secret places.

The needle scratches the vinyl as the record comes to an end.

I stare at his lips, as he brushes a finger across mine.  I nibble a moment before kicking off my shoes.

He reaches out one arm, pulling down the window shade.

Copyright © 2011 Kimberly Yarbrough Carpenter
Music suggestion:  You’ve Really Got A Hold On Me,  Smokey Robinson and the Miracles


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