Why

Lying here  early, early in the morning

Wondering how does it happen,

Why does she come as she

Does late at night,

Naked, wrapping herself around me

Her breasts pressed on my spine,

Lips whispering in my ear

Thighs in my lap,

Fingers dancing over my skin

Drawing me up into her

Open thighs in my lap,

Leaving me full

And empty,

Why.

Stephen Nesbitt ©