It's All Right

The way she came back to me
across a summer-filled bedroom.
She wore only lime green knickers,
pale pink roses and white-laced edges.
She smiled and her hair flowing free
like thick black shadow around her head.
I was there lying, waiting, naked
on her so narrow single bed.
I did not have to wait for long.
I did not have to wait to feel her tongue.
She had only been gone for a while,
just to turn the record over. It was Free,
I remember Mr Big and It's Alright Now
And it was, it was all right
as right as any memory ought to be
and who am I to forget?

[Please note: as with all the pieces marked as Fragments these poems are unfinished and abandoned early drafts.]