Dragoncrest Cliffs we'll be at orale by 3 pm friday.

only once? cayetano protests,
spluttering a soft breath in her ear as she turns
her spine lodged firmly against him
game over.

he sighs and rolls on his back,
raises his paw to the sky
and counts silver stars.
we have to do it at least
the number of times
you've had revolutions
around the sun.
he half jokes with a smile,
one eye turned to the peppery-black flank.
i didn't hear you complain.