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Dry SeasonElizabeth Kay
When I thought you might want
to make love,
I removed my clothing
and lay myself across the covers
of our over-sized bed.
In hindsight, I might have left
the lights on—
a more open invitation.
You crawled
in next to me without noticing.
You rested your hand
atop my naked stomach,
and I felt you
startle at touching warm
and willing skin.
I waited, but your fingers
strayed neither north
nor south, and soon I heard
your breath
turn heavy with sleep.
In the dark of our room,
I felt my nipples
tighten—
two angry fists
against the cold.
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