Oct. 6, 2012
The bed groans
And so does she,
Pounding fists or feet
Against the wall
My sleeping head
Rests against
In the room next door
Each exaggerated
Breathe like a monsoon wind
Blowing straight through
The cracks as
My imagination
Paints in all the details
The heap of clothing
The entwined limbs
Woman astride the man
in an expression
so intense I ache
just thinking about it,
aching to be there,
dreaming later
I was,
Lost in the limbo
Of that early morning
Magic
A gift of the magi
I never expected
Checking in
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