That Dream

That dream last night – you know the one I mean?
where I walk in fresh from the shower and
you can’t take your eyes off me as I climb
into bed? I had it again. It’s strange –
you never touch me in that dream – why not?

All I want is for you to reach out and
stroke my flesh. Run a finger along my
spine as I bend forward to rub lotion
on my legs; lean in and kiss my ear lobe,
nibble on my neck all while whispering
incomprehensible sweet things to me.

I keep expecting you to cup my breasts
in your palms, murmur about the wonder
of them before kissing the still-warm skin.

When I wake I wonder if my body
is flushed from touch or the chill in the room;
from the caress of fingertip and tongue or
the unsatisfied want I feel inside.

I close my eyes, will myself back to sleep
so I can relive each moment – and maybe change
that dream, to one where we connect at last.

© Siobhan