Morning Breath . . .

Morning Breath
Maeengan Linklater
Wednesday July 21, 2005

I had a great sleep,
deep,
warm,
content.

I can smell morning breath,
when you first wake up,
Hair spray,
last night’s perfume, and
dry midnight sweat.

Last night,
you were eye-catching,
inviting,
gentle.

I had a great time.

I think you did to,
your arms on my shoulders,
sweat dripping,
hips grinding.

Just thought,
I would tell you.
I can spend hours with you.

Tangled with your body,
languidly.
Drawing imaginary pictures,
on your back,

(the small part)

with my finger.

Tracing a line,
up and down,
sideways,
slowly.

Do you have any plans tonight?

I thought,
we could see each other.
You know?

We could talk.
Talk about your day,
talk about the weather.

But, deep down.

I want that warm feeling,
tickling below the waist.

Anticipating,
as our tongues play together.
Fingers floating on skin,
nibbling on ears,

Anticipating some more,
unlocking buttons,
pulling pants from hips,

Before I go on.

Do you know what I’m talking about?

Call me.