Something stirs me from my slumber,
you there next to me in gentle sleep.
I catch my hand feeling myself rumble,
soaking the sheets with wetness deep.
My lungs are tired from dreamy heaving,
hot breath signifies lucid playfulness.
Tired already from nocturnal unsheathing
of hard love that sent me to breathlessness,
to writhing in primal unconscious ecstasy.
I put myself on top of you silently,
stroke you first with my hand stealthily
bringing to rise your soldier valiantly.
You stir slowly unsure of subversive cause,
sensing something is happening to you.
And it’s good, very good, worthy of pause,
half-conscious, you moan when my lips move
down to where your pleasure has firmed
in truth to your deepest arousal from sleep
where the mind can’t control the physical world,
the not-so-secret secret of under the sheets.
Releasing my lips with a playful suck,
I launch one leg over and aiming true,
I slide myself down your tall trembling tower,
and this time, the moans are all mine –
~ by Emily Clapper