Dinner for Two Without a Table
by Mark Budman
They sat side by side, tiny crystal dishes scattered on the top of a flower-pattern Russian shawl covering their laps. Their bodies leaned against each other, kissing with their entire surface at the point of contact; the sun caressed their faces through an open window. Her golden skin, his lean hands, her thin, elfin face, his blond hair blended like wine poured from two bottles into a single goblet. Each dish held a fruit, except for the biggest one with a pulsing heart, one for both of them to share, as lovers do.
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