Newsflash:
Monday, 04 December 2006 14:14
After the Warmth is Gone
The pillow still traps the last memory of scent,
The body sweat and heated breath.
Your hair still slows the draining water
As it washes between my soap white breasts.
My nipples are posed for your fingers' touch,
My eyes are closed, remembering your hand,
The knock on the door as you come in,
The waters rushing around our bodies.
I turn, reach for the towel,
And notice your earring on the bathroom floor.
I ache,
And stumble
To the empty bed.
The body sweat and heated breath.
Your hair still slows the draining water
As it washes between my soap white breasts.
My nipples are posed for your fingers' touch,
My eyes are closed, remembering your hand,
The knock on the door as you come in,
The waters rushing around our bodies.
I turn, reach for the towel,
And notice your earring on the bathroom floor.
I ache,
And stumble
To the empty bed.
Copyright Lisa Jain Thompson
December 9, 1995
December 9, 1995
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Starpoetby Lisa Jain Thompson.
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