The Magical Warmth of Her Story

My hands traced her perfect spine then
touched her shoulder blades
tasseled with hair that shined
from the bedside lamp.

Her head was raised
as if looking toward the
dark window next to her bed.
I knew this was the bed
where her marriage vows were
sealed twenty years before and she’d
conceived two children
who now slept downstairs.

I wondered what parts of her
story she thought of as
my skin felt the heat of her
ass pressing softly against me.  
I slid my hands down her spine
to caress her waist, narrower than I'd expected
for a woman who’d birthed two.
I imagined all the pleasures of the
Universe passing through her slender
core as sand falls deliberately
through an hourglass.

I thought of our lives
slipping silently away  
and bent forward to
kiss her back,
wondering how a man
could leave her, but
thankful that she now
chose to share her life with me.

She felt my firmness and
her fingers found me.
My only thought was, ‘Yes, it’s happening.’
Her head and shoulders lowered
into the mattress as
her fingers led me into
the magical warmth of her story.