bare skin

I wanted a Christmas poem to share with you, ten days prior, and decided on “bare skin”, which appears, in its entirety, in Naked, © 2018, Main Street Rag Publishing Company.  Here are the first and last three stanzas of this melancholic poem:

I feel his bare skin pressed against mine

intimate

snuggle in soft sheet luxury

on a cold, no alarm, Saturday morning

. . . 

lights are on

fire’s laid

it’s a full moon Christmas

I fill my glass

practice the art of the dunk

air bubbles shoot to surface and pop

I scoop the chocolate chip cookie chunk from my milk

Santa died

it’s hard to sleep

© 2018       Cindy B. Stevens

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