Rain coat.

  It was raining
  we sat on the couch
  (a color I cannot recall)
  and we listened to the radio
 Leonard Cohen was reading poetry
 and laying the meanings of his songs
 at our feet.
  Reminiscing of his worn blue raincoat
 (torn at the shoulder)
in a day where Burberry meant nothing
more than quality.
 Your warm hand brushed my bare knee
and the glint of gold on your ring finger
 filled the room.
For a moment I had forgotten we were sinners
"thou shalt not commit adultery"
I began to pray to the Saints
you brought my hand to your lips
"thou shalt not covet"
and you laughed.
Tears rolled down my cheek
you asked for a lock of my hair.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

so i will not forget this lesson.

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coffeewithleonardcohen's picture

You have an old soul, and I

You have an old soul, and I don't just mean you like old music and can spell things in Polish.  If you're really 23, I'll gladly eat my hat.  (winks, disappears)