His wife had gone off to bed hours before.
Now he navigates through the dark bedroom,
undresses as he hears his wife’s soft snore,
and, approaching the bed, smells her perfume.
As he’s done thousands of times in the past,
he lifts the covers, slides into the bed.
Her body’s warmth greets him, in sharp contrast
to the coldness the sheets offer instead.
He reaches over, gently pats her behind.
She moves over more but fails to awake.
Her scent, her warmth brings memories to mind
of lovemaking in which they did partake.
For just a mere moment, his mind is filled
with desire for pleasure between her thighs,
but such thoughts are all rather quickly killed
by old age’s truth. Turning over, he sighs.
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