Today I did something
maybe I should not have done
in a place where I should not have done it.
It was one of those awkward moments
when you visited me in a place
you should not have been,
you brought coffee and a pastry
we made quick passionate love,
you held me tighter than I had ever
been held and I offered you my shower,
as I sat looking at the blank computer
screen waiting to fill its page
with empty words.
I asked if you’d like a shower
as I sat in my chair listening to water
run down the body which had
just been snaked about mine.
I imagined how you ran the soap
up and down your hardness
lathering in places I had just touched
your perfectly sculpted nose
to your perfectly aligned toes,
rubbing between them
and then to your groin
for its second wash.
You then dried yourself, slung your
towel around your waist, like you do
in the way that I want to rip it off
to watch all of you stand to my attention—
but this time you came from the bathroom
dressed and ready to leave.
We kissed, you snuck out the back door
and I snuck into the bathroom to spot
your neatly folded towel slung over
my shower door, a height only
the tall you could reach.
I stood on my toes to pull it down,
placed my nose deep into the terrycloth
trying to transcend into your smell,
the you that was with me
within some faraway dream.