Sonnet 92 – Mourning Love

You slide in behind me, breasts to back, then
drape your arm over my side and glide your
hand across my chest, remembering when
there used to be more brown hair than gray here.

Rising on one elbow, you lean down to
buss my temple, trail your lips along my
neck then whisper “Good Morning, Love” while you
roll me to my back and kiss me. Your eye

reflects first sunlight and my first smile and
you begin to move against me. Astride me
now, you seek my worship. You understand
my need for you and my need to be free.

I long to spend my life simply loving
you – touching, trusting, denying mourning.