with his fingers carelessly brushing across her shoulders
smoothing back hair from her neck
tracing the dip and hollows of her back,
his questions do not reach her ears, for long ago
she tuned him out
beneath him, she counts the seconds
imagining she is
alone, wrapped in
silk pajamas
healing herself in peace and
thinking of nothing.
why are you shaking, he breaths into
her bare, sweaty back. doyou want me again? he asks
i don't have the energy, she
whispered.
she wants to cry out, twist from his reach,
snatch the bed-
sheets from beneath him,
curl up against the
finger-work of a hundred hands ago
and push hard
against an angry sleep.
