August 25, 2001
I awoke and you were gone.
Covering my face with my hands
you returned in a scent.
I want you back terrifically.
I can not rise from where I lie.
Your scent has seeped into the sheet
holding me down like glue.
I rolled to your side, cooler now without you.
A pillow lay on the floor, a foot away,
it's white case the color of your stomach just above
dewy black-webbed lips.
The phone is ringing. From the next room you say,
"I'll get it."
Then fall across me wet and laughing.