Midnight
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A dim lamp flickers
by the side of her cold bed.
She shivers slightly
draped in sheets of red satin,
anticipating
the light touch of hands on skin,
warm breath on bare nape,
lips that brush her slender neck.
She shivers slightly
as the clock starts striking twelve.
Her heart beats faster.
Footsteps; the wooden door creaks.
She shivers slightly.
Holding her breath...she feigns sleep.
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Contest: Midnight Poetry
Sponsor: Nathan D.
Placed 6th
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015
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