It comes unbidden in the night,
like a ghost,
a memory never made.
A whispered word,
shared laughter at a cat
chasing movements under the covers.
An arm across a stomach,
the caress of the soft skin of breasts,
a leg moving against a leg.
The warmth of a body next to another.
Never experienced yet known,
longed for when the lights are out,
the night descended.
It is a wish desired to become reality.
Always waiting for that bond
between man and woman,
that special moment shared.
A memory
of what is to come.
352 What is to Come [11 November 2000]
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