Convocami

 It's 6 and we are as we should be when the alarm goes off: 

My head on your chest, your hand in my hair, both content. 

The sleepy smile on your face and the kiss to my forehead,

Do we delay the inevitable wake up?

My devious hands playing under the hem of your shirt...

Absent-minded.  Warm. In our element. 

Do we rouse and dare disturb the universe? 

All is as it should be. Slow. Safe.

At noon I'm too wrapped up in my spreadsheets again, 

I have no time between emails to think of the press of your lips

Against mine, or the tickle that your voice summons in me,

And the same deft fingers that played with your hair

Now write memos and summons and homework again. 

I'm too busy in meetings to remember that I shouldn't be 

Talking about you and how you make me laugh,

And yet I revert to your phrases and blush like a fool. 

At 5 I'm already on my way to see you in your ivory tower,

Too fidgety at every red light that keeps me away longer,

That delays the moment where your lips caress the underside of my jaw

And I've been waiting all week to see you again. 

I keep searching your face for an answer to everything,

And "the curves of your lips rewrite histories" amore,

In the front row of your pew, patiently waiting 

For you to make the decision and summon me to you. 

At 11 we're where we needed to be for the evening,

You on the couch with your brain shut off for the night

And I, wrapped up with sweet thoughts of you, waiting

For the tug of your hand summoning me to bed,

For the grind of your hips and bruise of your lips on my skin,

For those deft fingerprints on my hips 

And all can be as it should be, mio caro

If you dare summon me to your side.