The clock hums;  SoftGlo dial reads 4:10;
she's long asleep, curled beside me, an embryo...
some ribs show:
she's been broke.
(She said that.  Now I understand.
That late snack at the coffeeshop
was more than most remembered meals.)

...Yes but
her flanks have stayed so
lush.
How?

Anyway, lush--
naked, brushing against me...

--It's four in the morning;   she's long asleep...

Small.  Almost tiny,
she is.
--Small smooth pliable body
withstood...
yes, enticed!
wanted more--
and again...

I roll and plant a
kiss
on the top of her head.

(It's four in the morning;   she's long asleep..)

--Robert Winter, 1973