Unexpressed Desire

Originally posted January 21, 2012

Unexpressed Desire (aka The Morning After)


Cool raindrops on my window.

A liquid warmth insulates

The soft Sunday morning

(The grey skies

A cozy backdrop

For our scene)


My bare right thigh

Rests on your pajama-ed leg.

My right hand slipped

Under your left

As my palm inhales

The heat from your ribs.


You hover on the edge

Of a waking snooze.

A soft snore rises

From your throat.

A moment frozen

With desire.


This could go in any direction.


On the one hand,

I hate to disturb your sweet surrender,

Like a nostalgic portrait

Studied by professors

And glanced over by disinterested tourists

As they rush through the gallery.


On the other hand,

I want nothing more than to feel

Your lips brush the side of my neck.

Your entire fist slowly twisting inside me.

Your coarse fingers mash my left breast,

Squeeze out my nipple and tug with your teeth.


Another soft snore.

A resigned sigh.

I pull my hand out from your shirt

In one, cottony stroke.

Unraveling from you,

I tiptoe to the door


Turning in time

To see your lazy smile

And half-opened eyes.

“I’ll let you get some rest,”

I whisper, as the door firmly latches

Behind my back.