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Sunday Morning
Your delicate hand,
joined to rising breast,
my still-life body
your brachium rest.
Your silk legs entwined
in my warming thighs;
my wistful look out
to the lightening sky.
Your fine breath gasping
on this bristled face;
my heart awakened
with each fingers trace.
Your staunch words linger
behind bridling view,
my slow acceptance
that your terms are true.
Your lips tender touch
on excited skin;
that intoxicates
as our day begins.
Your morning sunshine,
your desiring glance.
My grateful arms.
My final chance.
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