the child you are

you're in the mood
for love.
she's in the mood
for sleep
and ignoring
your hands
and legs encroaching
on her curled
position
deep within
the pillows
and blankets,
burrowed beneath
the sheets
protected. are
you awake, you
say, nuzzling
your chin
with bristles
sexily along her
back. you hands
sliding along
the smooth curves
of her. no, she
says, again. stop.
i'm sleeping,
which makes
you sigh loudly,
defeated,
and roll over,
sulking
like the child
you are.