Adieu

I knew this would be the last time.

The door is shut.

Do Not Disturb.

Move the hair
from your neck,
and replace it
with my lips.
You shiver, a low moan escapes you.
Pull away and your hands reach for my
face and you caress me,
the only time you've
ever done it.

"Can't we stay the way we are?"

I ask because I have to ask.
You shake your head and
my hope dies, unresolved, undelivered.

"There's just too much."

Too much knowledge,
too much pain,
too much fear inside the
small and private story
our hands alone can hold.

So we both know this is the last time.
And that, I suppose, is a good thing.

You bring my lips to yours,
and kiss me softly,
quietly,
carefully.
A thousand regrets
in that one little kiss.
I will not live
in a world of regrets.
My tongue touches yours,
explores the recesses of your mouth with
intensity, with longing that will soon
be satisfied.

Breathe the kiss.

Break the kiss.

I didn't know you could get undressed so fast.
White cotton panties and a
smile. Good god.

I will remember that smile,
those panties, and everything in between,
when that's all I have left
of this night.

I'm laying you down
on this unwrinkled bed
that is begging for
mussing and tussing;
signs that we are alive, right now.
I straddle your
gorgeous naked self and
bend my head to your skin.
I will taste
all of you.
I kiss your
shoulder, soft, delicate.
Lace in the mo(u)rning light.
Thoughts flit across the
canvas of your face, and you
think I don't see them.

"Stop."

You pull me down beside you,
your arms encircling me tightly,
determinedly.
You've drawn up your inner steel,
and we are ready now.

So you're the one on top, and your
perfect breasts are just within reach.
Throw your head back,
close your eyes.
Moans ripple through your throat
and into the stifled air
as I touch you.
Your nipples are
pebbles hidden under pale pink silk.
And the taste
is pure
need
in my soul.
With my left hand I cradle you,
holding you tighter against me.
Your back is an ivory pillar,
holding you up,
keeping me grounded.
My right hand slips underneath you,
between your legs.
Inside the refuge I have always claimed,
though it wasn't
strictly
my own.
Fingers glide over
rorid skin and into your deepest
delights and desires.

Make a joyful noise.

I watch you ride me,
slow and deliberate.
Every movement a thought.
Every thought a memory.
You know as well as I
just what it is we are doing,
tonight.

And I was right.
I do taste all of you,
every curve and hollow.
Musky smoky sweetness in the
hall of refuge, yes.

Twisting, twitching convolutions,
writhings of the most private kind.
I watch, I partake, I revel.
Mental snapshots for no one but me
The coming of your body
and the coming of my mind
intersected.

After you fall asleep,
I watch the TV for a while.
It's hard to laugh right now.
Slip my clothes on.
I know you hear me, know you've awakened.
No backward glance, I tiptoe out and pay.

The walk home is cold and
inseparable in my mind
from the rest of this night. And that is ok.
My sleeping husband waits.
And so does yours, I'm sure.

This was the last time.