standing in her bedroom, she’s wearing white lace, and rose silk, and her classic golden hoop earrings. her brown fur coat drapes elegantly around her shoulders. her cotton candy lips are soft, her shining brown eyes gentle orbs. she raises her smooth hand to her face, turning her face from side to side, examining her youthful skin.
she sits in front of her vanity and pulls on her sheer fishnet tights. she rises slowly and slinks across the room to her bed, where she lies.
there, a blank postcard rests.
she writes to her love, speaking of the time they first met
the time they first kissed
the time they first made love.
she raises her pen from the letter filled with her affection, feeling something is missing.
she takes the card back to her vanity where her array of lipstick awaits. running her fingers over the selections, she settles on a deep, deep red. she leans towards the mirror and glides on the cool, matte color. her lips pucker tightly as though she’d just tasted a bitter yellow lemon.
she lifts the postcard to her mouth and tentatively places a kiss. then another, with more confidence. and another, and another, and another. the postcard grows with her love.
the next morning, she delivers the postcard to her mailbox. and with one final kiss, she sends it off to her lover in new york.