Certain Conversations in Bed
       

I felt his whole body misunderstand
as I described a woman I'd seen in the shower
after my swim. He moved a little closer
as if to watch her drop her soap again,
stretching to where it slid, scooping it up.
And then? He stirred the sheets, all innuendo.

Had I led him all this way to show him my mind
mixing blues to paint the tones of her thigh,
etching or smudging the outline of her breast?
Could I at least concede his point about my timing?—

Now we lay in silence as she grabbed
a gym towel off a hook and wrapped herself,
the smack of footsteps as she walked away.
Our sighs had a serrated edge, not quite seething.

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Copyright © 2019 Debra Bruce All rights reserved
from Tar River Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission