Conquest

of love hearts and such. From east to west. North and south. Conquests of souls and hopes and dreams. Fully aware of what happens next. Vexing to me I haven’t seen her since. Good news though. We have the same mutual friends. And she sends her regards. When she comes north again reminiscing and all of that, schnapps and mimosas come morning. Conquests, before continental drift and deities are not just myth. A love as old as time. A lover as average as dime novel heroes. A tip of the hat to a lady. As simple, soothing as a pat on the back. A whisper on the epidermis, skin. To pores and flood the blood stream. It seems she has always loved him. GLO ©