Pornflakes and Coffee

When they awoke he had gone quietly and his

wife’s shy smile answered his first kiss—

“Are we ok?”  “More than ok, ok?”

She snorted, sought his morning wood—

“Can this wait? You boys sure

stretched me last night and….”

rubbing her face “…you both left a

wonderful mess, but now I need a

shower, and coffee please mister!”

He watched her naked beauty

wobble uncertainly to the bathroom,

lay awhile amidst the

still-strong smells, images of the

night as tight a ring about his heart as

that ring he’d put on his wife’s finger and

just as snug, water running, her

happily humming, him brushing

pornflakes from the bed and making coffee.

 

(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)