One Night

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By Dianne Moritz

Drunk with desire,
she waited
for him to come

home and to bed.
She longed for
his warm breath

on her shoulders,
his strong back
pressed to hers

in welcome sleep.
She pulled open
the window shades

and stood, believing
Man in the Moon
duplicitous as he.

At dawn, she woke
to find his duvet
neatly tucked in.

           
Dianne Moritz writes to make sense of life and love.

3 thoughts on “One Night

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