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Ghosts of Past Lovers

He rubs my feet, sore from work, and
blows cool air across my toes.
I lie waiting for his kisses up my leg,
never sure which he’ll choose.

Will ghosts of past lovers
stir in their graves
with their memories of touching
a younger me? When his tongue
arrives at my sheath, will I think of
those who've come before?

From a frame over my lover's shoulder,
his dead wife looks on
with a hint of jealousy
I find intriguing.
Written by Nizana (Lauryn)
Published
Author's Note
At 43, I guess it's inevitable that past lovers have died. I recently learned that the first boy I had sex with died. I wrote about him in Math Tutor https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/434756-my-math-tutor/
My present lover asked about removing his wife's portrait from his bedroom wall. I told him it was beautiful and that he should leave it.
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