Unwound, lying beside you and yet floating,
I am cognizant of your ebbing presence but silent.
A tumble of pillows ago, with my ecstatic consent,
Your foreign tongue beckoned me to sing.
At a feverish pitch from tender strokes, I babbled your name
In romantic languages -- amor, cheri, amore --
Your expert tongue seeking uncharted territory.
Such passion denies the intrusion of shame.
Now, as night gives way to dawn,
And only remnants of lust remain on our lips,
The flickers of our embers appear to be long gone --
Until you kick away the dampened sheets and respond with your hips.