Untitled 1989

I saw you lying there ---
stretched all out in sleep.
Too long for the couch
upon which you lay.
Almost vulnerable.
As it was hot, though cooler than
has been of late,
You lay without a sheet.
Covers had been shoved aside in sleeping.
I had thought you were another --
Coming in as I did from light to dark,
But something made me stay my hand
til you had been identified.
Perhaps it was your infernal snoring
that told me it was you.
My eyes ran the length of your body ---
I had scarce realized how long and alabaster you lay.
Long of limb and long on stubborness,
Yet as you slept I could scarce tear my eyes from you.
Much as I wanted to slip to you,
run my hands along your lengths,
To see if your skin was to the touch
as cool as to the eye --
Yet I could not go.
Fear of how I'd be received holds me too far back.
Harder still is seeing you
bleary-eyed in sleep but up and ready to go.
How I long to gather your head to my bosom,
ruffle your hair
and kiss the dark crown of your head.
No. It's your move, and you're not moving.
07/1989