she never wonders
what happened to him.
safe home from her work
she still is (mostly) in love with,
red, neat trimmed nails linger 
on pale plastic keys -
the feel of them giving 
willingly, almost instinctive,
as she presses just so;
eyes persuaded into light gray 
by the screen's silent chatter,
her legs curled against her, 
she shakes sapphire fatigue from her head,
hair bouncing, swiftly caressing 
the nape of her neck where it lays;
Kenny G plays his last linger, 
causing her to stop now and then,
hand on chin, lashes kissing.
she dims the light, her breasts rise in time
to a sigh of delicious tiredness spent;
crisp sheets, her feet savor the tingle -
the gathering warmth of a satin embrace;
In darkness' release, the clock's glow 
keeping watch as sleep snuggles her close.
she never wonders
what happened to him.
Jon Bohrn (1999) 



previous | index | next