I see your hair strewn awkwardly across your face.
Your eyes flick faintly underneath their sleepy lids.
Your breath comes gently through your parted lips.
I see your breasts uncovered by their wrapping cloth
Soft targets of my tongue and teeth in days now old.
Your browned midriff lies bare, and silently rehearsed,
my two hands seem to span and touch and hold.
Your skirt is short, draped artlessly across your naked thighs.
Memories of possession come to me. So many times!
For two weeks now you have repulsed my every move.
If this had been our first shared time,
You would be written off by now.
A pathway growing cold.
I wallow in frustration, thoughts askew.
Compulsive need a force I can’t subdue.
I want you now with lust and love but can’t have you.
In truth my passions are all meaningless,
A primal lust, intruding into consciousness.
Abandon this, perhaps seek someone new?
Feed desire with desperate girls to woo?
Empty pleasures, wasted time and money too.
The answer to this crisis? End it here.
My pattern turned to drifting dust without a care.
But such an act must not imply intent
It must be made to look like accident ...
I see you, hovering there, just out my sight.
You really are a very simple soul
When you at planet Earth alight.
Feed you, clothe you, house you, stroke you, sleep with you.
You’re happy then to live inside your brain.
I see you now, great puppy, wanting sex.
And if I gave it, you’d be quite content again.
And why should I? It is my holiday too.
And I have better things to do
Than cope with absent baths and other people’s sheets.
No dear. Hold to your needs, we’ll be home soon.
One night and all this angst you’ll soon forget.
And I can live off these few happy weeks
For quite a few months yet.
© Nigel Seel, 2009.