Monday, March 12, 2012


like steam rising on water
your heat is obvious from a distance

so i slip out of my shorts before
i slide in beside your sleeping form

warm scent escapes the open sheet
musked sweat and cologne drifting up and out

your body responds instinctively, rolling towards
and wrapping itself possessively around me

your rough hands begin to rove unthinkingly
under my shirt and between my legs

i very softly tell you no
though i know full well you do not hear

your fingers sleepwalk across my flesh
like a man lost in the dark

crooked and repetitive
you keep circling back to where you have been

sliding further down the back of my panties
holding tighter to my breasts

heat-drugged and slow
we sigh ourselves repeatedly back to the brink of sleep

each time we awaken slightly
your breath is quickened in my ear

i find solace in your unknowing touch
so solid and expected

i smile slightly each time i push your hand away
comforted by the sureness of its return

so much so that you search in your waking dreams

a hunger that is primal sweetness and lust
rolled into something we call love

Spooning - fine art print by Aurora Jenson
For more information on the condition of on the label below this post.  My husband "suffers" from this harmless (though sometimes annoying) condition.  Crazy stuff.

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