Saturdays

We lay pretzeled
together
contorted
comforted
by what we hope
to be given
by each other

Saturday mornings
are like this

Not so much hurry
to lift the mantel
of beck and call

Desire thrums
not exactly
white hot
lust

Not exactly

I will rise
and work in the garden
teased and lifted
by the knowledge
of your nakedness
beneath
flannel shirt
your mid life
cargo pants