lights out

March 18, 2017May 31, 2017 / Frank Prem

Poem #12 from The Book of Evenings

Back to: The Book of Evenings – Introduction

it’s absent minded
almost unnoticed by either of them

he has a novel
she a magazine
bedside lamps cast a comfortable glow
over her large and his smaller pages

he raises his eyebrow
at a florid passage
she wears her glasses low
toward the tip of her nose

side by side
each is absorbed with reading
and he has been rubbing his foot
against her leg
a gesture so familiar
in this comfortable time
before sleep
they hardly notice anymore

she is first
places her magazine on the bedside table
and moves
snuggling
towards him
almost an under-cover approach
that places her head on his shoulder
an arm high on his chest
her leg across his thigh
and stretched down
until toes touch

he adjusts the positioning
of arm and book
the angle of his reading
to accommodate her
while a fingertip absently traces
the topography of her spine
to the buttock
his arm presses down on the length of her
to add a small pressure
and better feel the sensation of her body
against his
glances down at her head
and the golden tones of skin
under lamplight
the curvature of a half-revealed breast
re-shaped by his chest

these positioning movements
are his own signal
to finish reading
drop the book to the floor
and bring both arms together
in a hugging embrace
that lets his body encompass her
for a few moments
as she slips towards sleep

one last craning of the neck
up by her
down by him
to kiss and murmur

before the lamp
is turned
off

The Book of Evenings Poem #13: learning to twirl