The roar of rain
and the long, rumbling tunnel
of a thunderclap wakes me.
But you are still sleeping.
An ocean of bed sheet
and the wall of states,
silk-thin and diamond-hard,
between the dreaming world,
and the waking one
divides us.
Thunderstorms always
make me horny.
I nestle my face in my pillow
and watch your profile,
aged marble in the watery light.
My nipples tighten,
a spider of want clambers up my spine
leaving a hollow ache between my thighs.
I don’t want your kisses or careful affection,
just your hard cock in my raw heat
and the raspy breath
of your desire on my neck.
But I love you too much
to wake you up.
Absolutely beautiful, and so evocative of how storms can strike those places in our bodies and our souls that only the gifts of nature can manage to reach.
Wow, that end! I didn’t expect that. Very true to life though.
Now there’s an agonizing moment many of us have idled in, but I have never seen it captured so succinctly. I love how direct you are. Precise, incisive.
Someone’s yearning for a lost moment when he wakes up and read this…
RG, this is short, but very beautiful, thank you. 😛
Warm hugs,
Paul.
That was achingly delicious!
It is quite remarkable how breaking the barrier between sleep and waking can be so taboo, even between the most intimate of couples. In a 20-year relationship, I can recall only one occasion of waking my Significant Other for lovemaking, and that was by prior arrangement. It just feels like some weird violation to wake your partner in the middle of the night, and you’ve captured that tension nicely.