Couch Riding

On the couch
in my lap
facing me kissing me
smoke rings of green in between our expressions
lose the shirt, rising skirt
you press down
as I push up to
dock in you

She Went Out To Get Some Air

"In the Morning" (a continuation)

I look at him from across the kitchen table. He's completely engrossed in his book, nearly halfway completed. An accomplishment really because he had started it last night right before I went to bed.

"Good book?" He at first does not respond, a crust of toast dangling from his fingers his mind obviously elsewhere. I stare at him expectantly knowing that at some point he'll realize I've said anything.

"Sorry what?"

"Book. Good?"

"Mmhmm." He hadn't looked up at all as his eyes continued to read. A smile comes across my face. It must be good. He only gets this way when a book is interesting and his writing is going well. His concentrated brown eyes, his solemn expression. I know then that the remainder of his breakfast will not be eaten.

I know this man well. My best friend. My lover. My man. My head has laid in the crook of his neck thousands of time. Legs trembled at the anticipation of his touch almost every night for years. I have run to him again and again knowing whatever was wrong would be made right. I look at him and realize that I still am as in love with him as I was when we started this journey. More actually. The years of marriage hadn't dampened the spark. We were still ripping off one another's clothes. Still talking all night. Still laughing. Oh yes there were fights. There were hard times. There were worries. But we managed through them all. Our love always carried us through, even when thoughts of homicide flashed ever so briefly in our minds.

I get up and clear our dishes from the table taking his egg clinging dish away from him. He again doesn't look up but as I turn he briefly squeezes my ass. My blood turns hot. I set the dishes in the sink and see that he is grinning. I walk to his chair and slide it from the table. He continues to read like nothing is happening. Still smiling though. I take his book and lay it on the table.

"Baby. I was reading that"

"You're done." I sink into his lap straddling him. We goofily grin at one another as we embrace.

In The Morning

Every morning I remind myself: "need to get curtains." Bright sunshine is a fine way to wake up, but not at five in the morning. When your this high up even dawn can sting your eyes
           
"Need to get curtains," I think as my eyes adjust to the morning. The room coming into focus, the walls tinted a bloody orange by daybreak shining through the bedroom window. She is still curled up in the covers. Most of her is hidden, swimming in our marshmallow comforter. The only sign of life being her auburn hair splayed over the pillows and her leg outstretched and jutting off the side of the bed. From the hip to the hamstring, thigh to the toe, there is no doubt about it, that's a ladies leg. Toned muscles from a love of dance and tiny ballerina  feet, it's just a leg. but its the sexiest thing in the world to me.
The orange tint of morning dims as a group of clouds floats past the window sending playful shadows to dance across her hair and sheets and onto that leg.
Yeah, I could get curtains. But then I'd miss this everyday.

Swimming in Heaven

Pictures from our

Honeymoon.

Some people don't even know what they're missing.

Pictures From A Floating House

Taken from the Attic; 6:22pm

Warrior

My man is a warrior. A survivor. A lion of people. He is perhaps stronger still because he doubts himself. Always looking inwards trying to improve. Tinkering with his morality and his love for people and himself. I think he doesn't know his own strength. Doesn't know his ability to get through, to be the best person he can be. To find happiness. Sometimes his vision is clouded and I try to be the mirror. Show him what he really is. Show him that he is a warrior.

Because I know his strength. I know that he can do anything. I know that his heart is made of something not of this world. Something that keeps him from quitting, keeps him from letting the fire of hope die even when the flame is so weak the slightest breeze could blow it out. He's made of better things. Made for good in every way because he would not settle for less. I know this about him. I know he's the strongest fighter because I've seen him do it many times. His silence speaks volumes, even of pain. But he will get through. Clouds be damned.