- Erotic Poetry
- Who Is She Thinking Of?
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Her eyes closed, lips parted, her palm upon her mound.
I wondered, as I watched, what ecstasy she’d found.
Thinking of sex,
One surely suspects,
And she never even made the slightest sound.
Her breathing quickened and her neck turned red.
She lay naked and rapt on our unmade bed.
Her finger moved
Against her groove,
She was getting off, as a wise man said.
I wonder who is the subject of her fantasy.
I speculate just who that man could be.
Who is she screwing,
Who is she doing,
And I realize hopefully that it could actually be me.
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