Morning
I rose this morning
from sheets still warm
and heady with the scent
of our lovemaking.
the sun was barely beginning
to blue the sky, not yet
peering over the horizon
to hide the stars.
In the half light I watched you;
Your tousled crown of flames
licking against the brilliant moon white sheets,
Your breath slow and strong,
steadily reassuring me of the
constancy of you.
Too tempted by the sweet scent
of dawn to linger too long by your bedside,
I crept away and down the quiet stairs.
Outside, I slipped across the lawn,
the dew-painted blades
teasing and flickering at my bare toes.
At the stoop, I sat,
the cool concrete grainy
against my skin, the gentle
ache between my thighs a sweet
reminder of your complete
possession
of me the night before.
I pressed my hand to my belly,
remembering the sweet gift
left there by your passion;
marking your territory,
making the woman in me whole.
In the growing light, I was
astounded by the simple
beauty of the nodding plants,
heavy under the kiss of the morning dampness,
heavy as the flower within me felt,
when kissed by the dew of your love.
Completed now, I sat and watched
as the sun rose only for me.