Mimi-Mona Poetry: You

©You

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

The way your open shirt blew

up against my bared breasts

hinted a breeze was present.

Or, did the blue denim cling?

Shelves of books held hands

with the table placed

prominently before the

open window, the flapping sheers.

Was it hot that afternoon

in my bedroom decorated

with discarded clothing?

Covers shoved to the floor

at the end of the bed

and our sweat-glistening,

sated bodies sharing moans

would lead one to believe so.

Your body under mine,

I stared down into your eyes

as if peering into a well

or a pool searching

beyond my own reflection

for something else,

something my outstretched

arm sought— you.