Shower Poem by Rebecca Paul

I haven’t showered since I have been back here.
Now, you know that I need a hot shower in the morning more than I need even the strongest brew of coffee.
However, the last time I took a shower, I had just rolled out of your bed after kissing your cheek.
I remember how my fingers felt the water transition from lukewarm to steaming, my cold feet allowing it to rain down feeling back into them.
The last time I took a shower, it was with the water pouring from your shower head. I even mixed a little of your herbal soap in with my own.
The last time I took a shower, I wrapped myself up in one of your towels afterwards, and let the smell of your favorite incense tickle my nose.
I let that towel drop to the ground as my naked body found its way back into your bed, damp hair fanning across the pillow.
Do you remember when you remarked on how soft my skin was to the touch and the lips?
I laid my head on your chest and let the lullaby of your heartbeat calm my own.
Shortly after I found the comfortable nook in your body, you found the nook in mine. The last time I took a shower, we made love in your bed after.
My arms still tense as they remember trying to wrap around your broad shoulders as you persuaded moans out of my throat that usually lay dormant in my chest.
You let yourself sink inside of me like an anchor in port, for I knew that you were there to stay.
And when the music of my climax hybridized with your own… That is the kind of uncensored happiness I’m unsure anyone else even knows exists.
You kissed my lips and whispered you loved me, and I sense that your sweat infused with mine is still on my skin.
So, you see, I guess I am simply not quite ready to let go of that feeling yet.