alone, I take out the picture you gave me
touch it to my lips in silence,
so long ago, and yet so professional
you in your white and i, in army green
we would often chat over dinner… my dinner.
your dinner was waiting at home
with cats, and kids, and husband…
always, the dutiful wife and mother.
your smile though, always spoke with a difference
and through the whiteness of your uniform
so much woman, so much lace, so much stirring.
that night, the night i was posted
i saw the sorrow in your smile
and when we kissed, the realisation.
i had always, thought of your face and smile
whenever i jerked to release,
while my face was forever in your own lonely orgasm.
©Copyright July 2003 by Mike Subritzky
Submitted for the July 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Reflections”