The Lover

I want to approach you
naked in my musings
and black jeans.
To join you and
share a belly laugh
without invading
to relax with you
listening, attuned
to befriend you
without crowding.

Love and caress
you, with no
touching skin.

To watch the Aspen
outside, shudder
in the storm, cold.
Rain beckons us
Water beads
Horizontal confetti

Tap tap tapping
“Cheers” on the window.
As I kiss the fine hair
dotting the length of your spine,
I want to wrap myself around you
twice — like I’m six feet tall.
Protective, urgent.

Make you moan
As the wind howls,
a wolf there raging,
writhing in the dark
but hardly noticed
like our sighs in the night.

 

Terry Gibson,  2012.

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