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Watching Her Sleep
He loves to watch her sleep.
Likes to hear her breathe in
And out; see her breasts rise
And fall like sleeping giants.
He likes how she exudes a
Sense of peacefulness as if
Angels touched her brow and
Breathed a deeper love somehow.
He loves how her red lips move
In silent conversation, how now
And then her tongue brushes her
Lower lip with moisture of saliva.
Should he wake her from deep sleep?
Ought he to kiss her lips and bring
Her from sleep’s warm hold? Should
He touch her limbs with lust to life?
No, no, don’t wake her from her sleep,
Too dangerous; for although he is her
Lover, she’s his busy boss’s pretty wife.
poem
by
Terry Collett
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