The truth I hold between your legs

You press your warm body onto me

I am still half asleep

My body too desires you, but not yet

You, vivace, I, adagio, we dance to different rhythms

I stretch my arm and grab him firmly

He is real, hot, and material, like a rock in summer heat

I whisper into your ear,

Go to work, leave him with me, he distracts you there anyway

I, instead, will take good care of him

I’ll have him for breakfast, smeared with butter and confiture,

A strong coffee and a fresh pressed orange

And then,

I will cradle him between my breasts, and, hands-free, I will write him a poem

Later, in the shower, eyes shut, I will savour every inch of him

Together we will ignite a million pyrotechnic sparks

Later, wrapped in a warm towel, I will tell him stories of faraway voluptuous princesses

And when you return in the evening,

I will place your naked truth where it belongs, between your legs

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