for Chele681

“Oh my my my my my my -”

“Too many! One too many!” Jane corrected for the second time. “Five ‘my’s, then ‘mo’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sing it with me Rosie-Posie, I’m sure,” Jane offered with a wink.

Rosalie puffed her cheeks chipmunk-full of breath and blew slowly, sending what was left of the summer-whitened dandelion to float on the August breeze.

“Kay, ready?”

“Ready.”

Jane tapped her palm flat on her leg. One. Two. Three...

“Oh my my my my my mo my mother! I would love to love you, lover. City’s restless, it’s ready to pounce. Go, here in your bed, from... ounce to ounce. Sayin’ oh my my my my my mo my mother...”

They’d spent the day in and on the grass, close to the mountains, under the sunshine that lit the smalty-blue Georges Seraut skyline. When Jane had arrived, just weeks ago - a cross country drive out West, sleeping in parking lots and selling the clothes out of her duffle just for gas money - she’d fallen in love.

With a place.

She'd fallen in love in her heart. In her mind. In the valleys. In the viva-voce of the tides. She was lit alive again.

“Kay, let’s do the beginning,” she interrupted their slightly raspythroated softsinging, for what might have been the billionth time.

“Ahhhhh, again? What is it with you and beginnings?” Rosalie feigned impatience. But her smile gave her away.

Jane righted her spine, sitting up straight to pull a huskier voice from her dainty diaphragm.

“Day... after day...”

Rosalie mimicked Jane's pristine posture and picked up the next line.

“I will work... and I will play...”

“But the day... after today...”

“I will stop... and I will start...”

Jane snuck a peek from the corner of her eye, from where they sat, side-to-side, she smiled wide. And she raised her arms high, her hands in loosefixed fists, to move herself to the quick-pick-up of their lyrical pace.

“Why can’t I get, just one kiss?! “

“Why can’t I get, just one kiss?!?!”

Rosalie raised her arms too. Each still planted on the grass, they were dancers from the waist up, rocking twenty bare toes back and forth between them.

“Believe me, some things I wouldn’t miss -”

The taller blonde dropped her voice even deeper then, turning to the shorter one. Her voice was a lowlush hush in Jane's left ear:

“But I look at your pants and... I need a kiss!”

Jane tried to keep singing through her laughter, but Rosalie was tickling her then, braiding bellylaughs and babbledlyrics together in the afternoon air.

“Why can’t I get, just one screw? Why can’t I get... just one screw?!”

“Believe me... I’d know what to do...”

The taller of the two had the shorter one pinned then, and the shorter one knew that look. She stole the next line before Rosalie could go in for the kiss.

Jane shimmied her shoulders back against the grass and pursed her lips into a snooty pout -

“But something won’t let me make, love to you!”

They tangled then, plucky and playful. One was on top. Then the other. Then the other again. Underneath. Inbetween. All around the other. It was more a horizontal frolic than a fight, flirtation all freewheeling and frenzied, voices fluctuating from bass to tenor so fluidly.

“Why can’t I get just one fuck?”

“Why can’t I get... just one fuck?!”

“I guess it’s something to do with luck, but I’ve waited my whole life for just one...”

They were up and onto their barefeet before long, blonde chasing blonde. Swirling and spinning their soiree between the sequoias.

“Don’t shoot shoot shoot that thing at me...”

“Day... after day...”

“Don’t shoot shoot shoot that thing at me...”

“I get angry... and I will say...”

“You know you got my sympathy...”

“But don’t shoot shoot shoot that thing at me...”

The shorter one snuck up behind the taller, covering her eyes with her ten fearless fingers.

“Oh my my my-”

“My my mo my other-”

“I would love to love you lover...”

Rosalie tugged her ‘round then, freckling kisses up her arm and across her nose and cheeks, kissing her all the same precious places that the sunshine had.

Jane folded forward like a flower to morninglight, and snuck just the tips of her fingers under the babybluebonnet coloured headband around Rosalie’s creamgolden crown.

“I’ve given you a decision to make,” she spun the song almost lip-to-lip.

“Things to lose, things to take,” her love whispered back, eyes closed, seeking speechless softsweetness, tongue-to-tongue.

And as she’s about ready to cut it up, she says “Wait a minute honey, I’m gonna add it up.”

Add it up! Add it up! Add it up! Add it up!

I hope your day is wonderifical sweetsweetgirl - sending love and hugs and westcoastwishes,
Sarah.XxO