Baby Interruptus
Somehow, through the haze that our lives have become,
we ended up next to each other,
under the covers,
with darkness and silence all around.
The soft sound of her rhythmic breathing;
the faint scent of perfume worn off by the long, hectic day;
the tickle of her hair in my face,
reminds me that I still have a pulse.
Lightly, I stroke the length of her soft, bare back;
Gently, I press my lips where an earring was recently removed.
In a half sleep, she purrs and subtly moves her body closer to mine.
With eyes closed our bodies begin to melt into each other
and a stirring of passion, long subdued,
begins to awaken from beneath the slumber.
Silent is the darkness.
Slowly we adjust,
turning towards each other,
with anticipation keeping our worn bodies in motion
against the want of sleep for which we lack.
A muffled creak escapes
from a tired coil in the box spring beneath the weathered mattress,
stifling the movement of our entangling limbs.
An unheard awareness of motion
from the corner of the room.
A sigh.
A peep.
A moan.
A cry
and a wail.
The pain of the colic
has awakened the reminder of a love we once shared
without fear of making a noise.
The bodies untangle, unfulfilled.
She slips out from under the covers,
dons her cotton robe
and tends to the miracle struggling with life anew
not knowing if or when the missed moment
might occur again.
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