SJ

© 2018 Susan Jennings

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susan jennings

first morning

Through a haze of dreams and
long, forgotten thoughts of sleep,
your face emerges slowly,
soft,
I think with a halo
a sort of misty gold aurora.
I blink and moan to find you;
groping and sighing
Searching for your soft mouth
to suckle me awake.
My fingers glide
to find your collarbone,
your jaw
your neck
my hand slips into a heavy mass
of hair which falls
and falls upon my face and throat.
I'm awake now.
I'm alive now.
Keep me here against you, please,
breathing into me the warmest perfume
feeding me the softest mouth
teaching me things I guess I had forgotten
about being loved
better than ever before.


5/1994