S and M

S and M

 

Sophie chuckled in her sleep

dreaming of walking 

wind-whipped beaches 

in winter morning lashing rain, 

throwing tennis balls at waves 

for spaniels to chase.

 

back home to breakfast - steaming coffee 

fried eggs and kidneys, toast and butter,

served up by a smiling husband, lover

 

Martin’s arm,

lodged beneath her back,

flopped numb,

his fingers weighty on the breast 

he fondled and nibbled, 

in last night's passion

 

Sophie stirred, she turned

 

Martin withdrew his lifeless arm, 

slithered from the bed,

dressed quick and swigged

left-over vodka dregs

 

he pocketed a pack of Durex,

(unused) - Gossamer

ribbed for extra pleasure,  

bought to show how much he cared -

and propped a note beside the clock

 

‘bye, hon, the weekend was fun... life goes on…’

 

Martin lifted the sheet

for a lingering furtive look -

 

a new-conceived

child-seed celebrated

life ahead

 

the bedroom door crept shut

 

Sophie’s dream switched 

to a golden sand sunrise 

buttercup baby on her shoulders 

retrievers chasing tennis balls,

 

and, in an apron, Martin,

making breakfast, coffee,

fried eggs, toast and butter

on their sea-side cottage Aga.