Slept In On Sunday

Allison Marie Conway

The rich get richer and the pretty die young but this is the way of things and so be it. It’s nothing to me because all I have is now and now is tucked safely under my elegant wings. He pleasures me so deeply I moan and weep and beg before I reach the outer limits of the perceptible universe and then roll on over to the sunny side of the bed.

There is nothing he would not do for me and nothing I don’t request. There are stars in my eyes and stars blinking all around on the sweet soft song of morning as it bounces and reflects all over itself in an ecstatic dance with all of the beauty ever expressed since the first lovers ever knew the aching gravity in the heat of their forbidden touch.

It is nearly autumn and the changing colors of my heart…

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