The Pleasure

THE PLEASURE

It was his morning ritual
sleepy from dreams that left him restless
bathed in early morning sunlight
he’d reach for her
pull her close to feel the curve of
her waist, her hip,
smell the jasmine, oily on her skin.
The warmth of her,
like Chaco Canyon in summer
stilled his restlessness.
He’d cover her body with his own
not bother to shed clothes
only move aside his short
her panties and slip into her.
She, not quite wet, causing friction
almost like a virgin
she’d moan
search his mouth with her own
burning tongue searing his senses.
He’d turn onto his back
bring her with him
connected
in rhythm, they’d ride
and when he’d cry out
he’d wonder if it was she
he was making love to
or himself
or was it just the pleasure?