At Last

Keys rattle.
A bag thumps.
My anticipation rises,
as daisies after a hard rain.

I peek, damp in my robe,
see you unzip your bag,
finger your hair nervously
not knowing I watch,
wondering how it will be,
our very first time.

We'll talk, I've told myself.

I'll ask about your flight.
You'll read me a poem.

Hearing me, you turn, eyes
warm with startled delight, 
and suddenly there is no thought 
of talk, only my hands 
reaching to unbutton your shirt, 
unbuckle your pants, fall 
with you onto our bed, kissing
your eyelids, your cheeks, 
my robe open and your mouth 
on my breasts, between my legs, 
tasting, feasting on those places 
only our minds have been
able to reach before now.

I feel certain I will explode
from the beauty of it all.


Pris Campbell
©:2003

In Lotus Bloom Journal, June, 2003

Art: Map by Massimo Cremagnani

Massimo Cremagnani hails  from Italy. He began his career in traditional art, receiving his fine arts degree with magna cum laude honors, and has moved more recently into digital art. Visit his site by clicking on his name.

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