Saturday
Morning
©Mona
Arizona, December 2013
All Rights Reserved
Impatient
I can
wait no longer
Ill
content
unwilling
to be patient
You've
tented
the
blankets, the pole pointing
ceiling
ward
Knowing
you, I suspect
you're
already
long
and thick and planning
mentally
your
attack on my sweet
breathless
body
lying, waiting,
for
our sweat
to
mingle once again
