where I look first,
when I walk in,
is the couch,
where so often,
I straddle you,
you, watching the game,
or sleeping,
you, with your head leaning back,
I pounce,
like a cat,
a purring cat,
to distract,
your very being,
your resolve to watch the final inning,
or listen to it at least,
your pursuit of the perfect nap,
it’s no match for me,
when I want what I want,
when I sit right down in your lap,
and I straddle your strength,
your confidence,
your resolve,
I cover you doing your man things,
I cover you with my soft things,
you know me,
I must touch everything,
hold everything in my hands,
I want to feel your heart beating,
I want to hear it too,
and so I pull you,
bring you right to the floor,
where the dog comes to sniff,
and we laugh,
his nose right up by our lips,
and you grip the small of my back,
and I laugh and pretend to want it,
and then I do,
I want it,
a swirling ocean of want,
because it’s just you,
you’re too difficult to resist,
so I straddle your hips,
and lean way down to nuzzle that neck,
because it has been a week,
and you feel me through my shirt,
impatient with the fabric, the stupid buttons,
annoyed that it’s never easy,
the way it is in a movie,
you grin with one eye on the game,
waiting, waiting, for that last out called,
and I don’t mind,
it’s important to me too,
before we can begin,
before you turn your full attention,
and for a burning moment I see it,
that thing I saw the first time,
it’s still there,
dancing in your eyes,
it’s still there,
and nothing else matters,
when you whisper my name.