Her Shiny Neck

Your hair is still pulled up in a
loosely braided bun as is your  
custom for lovemaking.  
The sweats of passion are  
slow to dry in this  
southern heat.  
 
A few silky strands mat  
against your neck and  
glisten from the hallway light.  
You wouldn't be happy if I said I love your  
salty streaks of gray and how they  
whisper to me of a life lived.  
 
My spent semisoft cock  
finds its home in the crack between your cheeks
only inches from the place of our fiery passions.  
The smell of our love still hovers over your shiny neck  
and I wonder if I'll ever soften completely.  
 
Your breathing says you’re sleeping now  
and I feel jealous, picturing past lovers  
coming to your dreams, as they come to mine, trying to  
sweep away your memories of tonight’s love.