I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine…but at four thirty eight in the morning?
I feel the familiar warm hand on my face and neck, caressing
- and I stir, resisting the pull from my own world of dreams
Mumbling in my ear a tumble of words I don’t understand but know every meaning, I recognize, from years sharing this bed what will come next.
A warm body next to mine, pressing in … demanding
The kiss, wet and hot, unwilling to be denied
And in truth now, I am awake
- duty is mine. So
I swing my feet out of bed
Swoosh Walter into my arms
Toss her out the front door
- hmmm the air is beautiful and still this morning
And try to go back to sleep.