Perhaps the sun was jealous . . .

I crawl over you
like a cat
with a deadly appetite,
hunched over bright white linens,
laughing.
I feel the warm shower of sun
come through the open window
and press against my back,
and sense the path of a sweat bead
travel down my vertebra.
I let it slip slowly onto my fingertip.
Your eyes open at my absence,
and I move further as you reach for me,
your hand sliding off my stomach.
The tease turns the corners of your mouth,
curiously.

You lay like a beautiful god,
all muscle and sinew exposed,
your prowess in a precarious sleep.
I’ve always loved your sleepy head
deep inside the pillow,
surrounded by soft satisfaction,
dreaming.
I only wanted to peek at your beauty.
The smile disturbs our interlude.
An impression of your body
lingers on the sheet, as you rise
and draw me in, falling once more
down to lips, consumed in a kiss too delicious,
and lost again in the swell of your desire,
intoxicated.


jeanne rené 1/05