Unrequited

It wasn't the sex he craved so much
as its aftermath.
Lying naked, entwined, the soft
feel of skin against skin,
Imagined whispered, intimate
breathy conversation.
Drifting gently into dreamless sleep,
waking to renewed passion.
These were his constant distracted
thoughts in her presence.
Thoughts of which he never
gave voice.
Neither did she.

Summer 2003