2pm, a Saturday

I watch as he sleeps, naked like the first night we made love.

His body rests so peacefully against the white sheets.   

His skin, moist from the sweat summoned by the summer heat.   

With each breath, his chest heaves and his nipples seem to yearn - desperate for attention.  His eyes are closed, but his half-open mouth seems to whisper to me.

Closer.

Take me.

Please.

I feel a stirring beneath my boxer briefs, as a part of me rises in response. But no.  He is sleeping.  

He needs his rest.  

I stare at myself and realize I will have to beat that part of me to submission so he can sleep.

Beat it til it finally relents.

And like my lover, 

naked against the white sheets,

goes to sleep.