He lay down after a long day
Of decisions, meeting obligations
Of doing the duties of this world
Oh it felt so good to lie down
Finally, he thought, pulling off his shirt
Stretching out languidly in bed
And then turning over, to relieve his back
Sleeping on his stomach
With lights dimmed
And he wondered
What was she doing
At this late hour, drowsily
She quietly tiptoed in
After a warm shower
Feeling delicious
She poured her favourite
Bitter orange & cinnamon oil
Rubbing her palms
With gentle relish
As the oil warmed
She touched the back of his neck
He smiled half asleep
He was waiting for this
And with a sigh, settled in again
She poured warm oil
Down his spine
While her right hand traced the oil’s flow
And the left followed
Kneading in circles, fondly touching
Every muscle and bone that held him up
Sitting astride
She stroked over
His wide back
The shoulder blades
Down the middle
And then lower down
Firm hands, fanned out
Kneaded the base
Where the days’ stress had accumulated
Absorbing it through her hands
To herself, from him
And letting it go
He felt a deep relief
And shifted again
Into deep slumber
She smiled, she knew
He was there already
And she would join him soon
In a healing interlude
The quiet haven
Birthplace of our souls
That was a very pleasant read thankyou for sharing with me 10 Chris
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A closeness impossible to measure, , great writing Anita Love duncan X