30 Poems: Day Twenty-Nine.


bath

I am in a slightly emotionally delicate state at the moment. So I ponder. And in pondering I remember lovely moments from when I was last in love. It did not end well. But the memories linger…

this is one of them.

A simple love poem.

PASS THE SOAP

We snatched a moment, one lunchtime.

He and I, in the spa-bath.

We talked, laughed, stroked each other.

No pressure to fuck. No desire to, either.

Just basking in each other’s intelligence and humour.

I poured some champagne into his navel,

and gently sucked it out.

I remember how we climbed over each other,

awkward and giggling, in order to swap sides.

The delight we took in being in each other’s presence

eclipsed any delight I have ever felt,

bent over, being shagged by some young stud.

And when, after an hour, he had to get out,

and return to work,

I wanted to wrap him up in a towel

and keep him forever.

 

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