Invariably, someone
wants me a great deal.
They also love me
and have loved me for years.
I’m not called upon
to emote much
but reciprocate.
This is often enough:
just imagining being wanted.
Sexual contact is complicated
because I don’t allow myself
to break my husband’s heart
even in a dream.
With hard-earned permission,
I’m allowed to kiss
a person in the dark.
She caresses my hair,
touches my lower back
until regular life distracts
and impulse dissolves into where
unfulfilled need lies,
though my heart is aching.
The sacrifices we make
to have safe families.
It’s a shame
to be an animal
means all this longing.
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