Lean Days and Lonely Nights
She lays, waits for his touch to reach through her
foggy memory – swallowed desire.
She misses the catch of breath, the small gasp
and sharp intake of oxygen before
a sigh of release escapes between them.
Exhaling into their kiss, lips parted,
she tastes the scent of him as he leaves her.
He misses the sound of her whispering;
graveled growl of passion when she wants him;
and her laughter, that deep-throated rumble
so rare in these lean days and lonely nights.
Eyes closed, he twists and turns. Entering her
in his imagination, he feels her
warmth, the acceptance he’s been waiting for.