Did We Have Sex This Morning…?
A poem about an early morning fumble. Or was it?
Did we have sex this morning
As the sun was coming up?
I seem to have the mem’ry
Of a lazy morning fuck.
The recollection of your hand
Caressing my bare thigh
And of me op’ning up my legs
Though closed, still, were my eyes.
Do I recall the prickly brush
Of early morning stubble?
Or am I just so drunk on sleep
That my mind is now befuddled?
I think that I remember
My leg slung o’er your hip
My eyes still shut, but I think I may
Have bitten on my lip.
If we did fuck, did either of us
Make a single sound?
Or did we both keep silent as