Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Motherhood

Dreaming of Him Loving Me

Early Morning

Weeping Willow at Dawn
(from poetryinreflection.com)

Through limp willows weeping silently near the bayou,

The lazy rhythms float on gentle breezes

And slide through the crack

In my broken window.

It’s not yet hot,

But he’s already sweating,

And the cool bead that swayed loosely

From the cleft of his chin

Tumbles down, landing on my bared hip.

I shudder.

He smiles.

I drink the sight of the pinkness of his tongue

Parting the brown lips,

And I “mmm” audibly.

Expectancy tingles the tips of my toes,

Slithers up my legs,

And gathers in my thighs.

I love the way he…

“Ah.”

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Let's Hear What You're Thinking...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: