The Thundering Dark

The Thundering Dark

Two o’clock in the morning 

Thunder rattles the panes 

Vibrating bottles of perfume and cologne 

Loosely arranged on the dresser. 

My eyes fix on a point 

Deep in the night. 

Her presence flavors the room 

Steady breathing at my side 

Her right leg thrown across my thigh 

Pinning me to the sheets. 

My mind is already at my desk 

Making mental notes 

Of tasks needing completion 

Calls to make 

Files to close. 

But she’s so distracting 

Inviting All the pleasures of the flesh 

The joy of the shaking night. 

 

Just a nudge would wake her 

The trace of a fingertip across her throat 

Kiss upon her chin 

A promise waiting the welcome. 

In the kitchen my cup waits. 

Hot, strong coffee will steam 

In just four hours 

When I will miss the sleep 

That eludes me now 

With her leg 

Thrown over me 

So inviting In the thundering dark.