Like entering a room
where a woman waits,
reclining, with coy eyes,
I stumble into awakeness
onto my erection, silent
and patient.
Given time to dress,
it isn’t rumpled or slouched
in its suit of hardness, but relaxed
and full, having taken the morning
to wake up before me.
It doesn’t want me to wake
to cajole it to orgasm
and fall back to sleep,
but to say, Yes, I like
you too. I hold it
in my hand, no longer
surprised or resentful
at its shape, merely content
with its proportion
to my body.
I flex it with a sigh
against my sleepy fingers
and enjoy the quiet morning
with a good friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment