scenes from the night.
she gets up to draw in the curtains,
then walks back to the sofa
and falls back into it, floats really, back into soft white cushions.
she undresses slowly, pulls me onto her
her bra is on the floor,
her ******* are firm round pillows with a darkened bud,
tonight i'm all yours, she says,
she surrenders to those last words... i'm all yours.
we make love right there, her astride me,
in the favourite manner of ancient Greek poets.
very early in the morning
i wake up and she is still asleep, wearing my t shirt, wearing my boxers,
she is bound by twisted bed sheets, bound by her long dark hair.
i'm hoping she'll wake up soon, i'm hoping we'll have time,
just once more.
the sweetest smile when she wakes up
thighs and long, smooth legs,
her eyebrow twisted in a parabolic curve
yes, the unarticulated promise of sleek *** in the small hours of the morning.
then the day begins
and light crackles at the bottom of the curtains,
goodbye kisses are the ******* worst.