Sandra Brennan (08/07/65 / Omaha Nebraska)
His call woke me,
Although it seemed like an extension
Of the erotic dream of him
Still filling my head.
He apologized, for waking me,
Forgot it's two hours later here,
He says, he just wanted to hear my voice.
I snuggle down under the warm blankets
And let my mind drift back
To the last time his hands touched me
I tell him I wish he were here,
Touching me now.
My mind is on rewind, reliving kisses
And carnal pleasures we shared.
I want to climb through the phone
And into his arms, into his bed.
I tell him this, hear his whispered words
In my ear, telling me the things
He would do, if I were with him now.
The conversation now turns
As words become incoherrent and we
Are both lost in each others pleasure.
Coming down, I am back in my own bed,
Listening to him breath through the phone.
I wrap myself deeper in the warmth
Of my blankets, wishing it were his body
Wrapped around me, instead,
And whisper Good night.
Comments about this poem (Midnight Call by Sandra Brennan )
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