imagining how warm it would be–her back against his chest,
their bodies curved around each other.
She has this addicting idea that his thumbs will fit perfectly
into the groove of her hips–his breath on her neck.
She leads him, by the hand, to her bedroom,
quietly lets him undress her. She promises to be quiet.
To be quiet enough–that no one will hear
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2011