Coming Home Late

It had been a long day for her.
Chaos at her office,
Clients demanding ever more,
Partners pushing…
And pushing.

The only mercy in the madness,
Was the speed of the day’s passing,
And at 9:30 pm she finally,
Pushed away from her desk.

Darkness all the way home was apropos,
Obscuring so much of the surroundings,
As the headlights drew her eyes
To the road,
Seeing only what was necessary.

And so too,
Helping to limit what her mind needed
To consume.

Lifting herself from the car,
Gathering her things,
She trudged the last few feet
From the garage,
To the last door of the day.

The door opening,
Providing access to her home,
And access to her oasis.

When he saw the door open,
He saw more than just the woman
He loved.

He saw his mate,

He saw his muse,

He saw the most beautiful, sexy,
Captivating woman…ever.

It was all she could do to drop her bags,

Kick off her heals,
With those sensuous legs,

And come to him.

Easily, slowly she settled
Next to him on the sofa,
Fitting under his arm…

She didn’t have to say anything,
Or do anything.

But just be there,
And relax,
And rest.

And know that he loved her…

Only her.


© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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