Last letter.

 You open the Bronze Star and Purple Heart, placing them with care on your bed.

Sitting and reading his yellowed last letter.  At the bottom a drawing of red poppies and his last words. 

I love you.  I miss you. I need you. 

Memories.

That cloudless hot July day, taking you in his arms kissing each freckle on your face. His hungry mouth on your hard cherry nipples. Slowly riding you to heights of ecstasy, giving and taken. Never feeling so filled with love again.  

Folding the letter, poppy fields will always hold lasting memories of our love.