Three Last Words

Yes, my eyes lit up, coal bright
an enigma about to disclose it’s riddle.
And my imminent silhouette
spread like an orange-red wraith
under a wisp of sun,
turning solid in your embrace.

 the way you became familiar

with my skin, found the faint
scent of perspiration
to which you returned again and again,

 and the way you traced the rise

up the back of my thigh,
cupped my bottom on the way,
continued your voyage along my spine.

 We both watched the exploration

in the mirror, spectators of our own recital.
Leisurely, the evening wrote itself
in lines of verse made of sighs
and irrational sounds. Before sleep
gathered her kin, three soft words
and a final kiss gently tucked us in.

 

end/Michael Bogar