Waking

faint scent of citrus
whisper of words,
deep yawn, salty lick of
your lips, innocent smile

lashes flutter open
reality falls, heavy,
empty bed, cold room
twisted sheets, low
rumble of hunger

stretch and shift,
skin over cotton,
fresh blood into tired
muscle, tiny fibers torn,
refueled, reborn, then
her body remembers

a hundred purple
kisses bloom, an
aching echo in the
cross of her thighs,
guarded until the
next hoarse demand
forces all of her open

quinine tears and a
silver tongue, a
paper-thin heart
overflowing with trust

emptied and refilled, at
dusk and at dawn, in
ten thosand moments stolen
while the world is asleep

I wake her with my
unapologetic heat,
and later, she sleeps, 
sated, coated, in 
the thick air of my 
purest intent