A Loving Offence
On the plane we arrive
sit side by side.
She neatly composing herself
to resign quietly to her seat.
I sit and relax,
nestling my head back
hoping to get some sleep.
So does she and within moments
she is gone.
Vapid to the world,
eyelids shut
and dreams open,
such as her upturned palm
resting on the rest.
It so delicately upturned:
pink,
tender,
facing up.
Limp and loose
and dangling along the side
tempting like the anchor.
I slowly reach,
and look to see
if anyone passes by.
And silent and deadly
I sneak slowly in;
my fingers penetrating
hers to embrace.
And it's simple
and a comfort
and a sullen mood I'm in
as I sink away
past verse
...
to sleep.
I gone-
she awakes,
moist heat in her hand
and urine in her gullet.
Surprised she removes my hand from hers
placing it gently to the side.
Up she's gone to relief.
I awaken,
she's gone-
there can be no way
she jumped from the plane:
afraid.
I know her return will bring
back the awkwardness.
I look:
see her astride,
and slip back in faux sleep.
More tense
than one sleeping should be
as her weight shifts beside me
as she snuggles right in.
And she lays back
and she's nervous as I
as she reaches back over
taking my hand
slipping each finger back inside,
letting each reside
where each one once were.
And she looks over to me
as I now look back her
both of us awake as ever.
And lean into her
as her nervous smiles forms,
as I whisper:
"That's a loving offence if I ever".
-Matthew Koutzun
1 comment:
My apologies love.
This post made me smile. I could feel my heart racing, and then sighing with sweet satisfaction. You have a gift.
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