The shutters create shadows across my bed as the sun rises
I keep them open to chase dawn
Dust motes dance before half open eyes
I imagine fairies caught in the final bacchanalia
I stretch my body seeking heat
Pushing back covers damp from ecstatic revelry
I reach for you first, always you first
Upon awakening finding the side empty
Your firm body missing from its place
Last night it was filled with you and me
I drifted in my sleep back to my edge
Crumpled sheets are evidence of our passion
I await your return with breath held
Anticipation fueling reveries, dreamed
My body tightens with morning imaginings
Pushing me to rise
Not from the bed but from my fevered thoughts
Anticipation makes me breathless
I flush remembering the night
Ceiling fans move air across exposed skin
I rise, pad barefoot and naked across cool tiles
The chill seeps up cooling my passion
Confronting the mirror offers evidence
Your visit was more than a fever dream
Imagined in my lonely nighttime wandering
Valentine, 31 Aug 2014
QBG_Tilted Tiara 
One time years ago, I left the crumpled sheets on my bed all day and late into the night after my lover was gone because I knew she would not be coming back for some time. I don’t know if that makes me a sentimentalist or whether I simply wanted to relive an amazing night every time I walked into the bedroom.
Perhaps Mark, a bit of both.
Oh yes I can just imagine the returnings of the mind to the evening’s moments of passion… so well expressed, Val.
Thank Christy, from you high praise. Indeed.
Loved this one, so open and sensual, filled with longing. This reminds me I really should post some of my poems, but I struggle with writing them. You’re inspiring, Val.
Oh, thank you, I appreciate that (the inspiring part). I struggle with publishing them. Sometimes they feel so revealing.
Just beautiful. Hugs, Barbara
Thank you Barbara, dreams are something we should wrap ourselves in, don’t you think.
Some like it hot, and that clearly includes you, Val.
Warm at least.
Well alright, alright! Woo! Ain’t nothing wrong with “dreaming”. 🙂
Nothing at all, especially when those dreams leave ‘evidence’.
😉
Sensory overload and well executed. ❤
Thank you Tess.
🙂 🙂
Wow what a great start to my Monday morning, you certainly know how to stir the wickedness my sweet and dear friend. I love this piece of poetry, very well written and arousingly (not a real word but it should be 🙂 ) wicked. I Love this one Val 🙂
Have fun today and hey put some clothes on… lol 😉
Andro xxxx
Nice to see you and thank you (with a curtsy and a smile). I think I will stare in the mirror a little longer.
😉
Your reflection is a lovely one my sweet and dear friend, so yes a little longer 🙂 Have some treats today, I am still not eating chocolates but we can share a virtual box or three if you like? 😉 lol
Andro xxxx
Very sensual and honest. I can tell you’ve put your heart into this. Nice.
Heart goes in all the poetry Monica, it is why for so long I kept them hidden away in a journal. It is why I was afraid to expose them. Heart, my own.
What a smile.
xxx
I agree, what a sweet and wicked smile 😉
Andro xxxx
Yep
A mix of joy and sadness in this poem Val. Will he return to offer you continuous happiness, or fade away as a memory?
Strange our dreams, aren’t they? Was it really a dream?
The words you use are so very heartfelt.
Yes, they were.
Reblogged this on MrMilitantNegro™.