She remembers
the way he felt
inside her

as she wakes
wonders
if it was a dream

his arm now draped
across her stomach
strong, defined
darker than her
summer-swimsuit belly

she moves him
much slower
than she did before,
and sits up—

expected blood
between her thighs.

She wants him again
through her soreness
and bends to kiss
his chest.

©2019 Robert Beveridge

Bio:

Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Chiron Review, Poetry Breakfast, and Third Wednesday, among others.