lap dance

i know the look
that accusing and what’s your excuse this time gaze
she’s given me a thousand times
the one she’s giving me now
as i try to sit up straight in the recliner,
dawn’s light coming through the window behind,
and pretend i’d not been there all night

“well?” asks she
a vision of early morning annoyance
hazel eyes flashing
hand brushing her sleep-mussed hair back
“late night?”

“was just a lap dance” say i
trying to ignore the mess on my pants
fighting the smile
the urge to bait her
“least i paid for it”

she shakes her head
rolls her eyes
and beckons for me to follow
as she heads back to bed for an hour more
and i, knowing my fortune, obediently follow

while the dancer slumbers
sweetly silent,
freshly reswaddled,
diaper clean…

[3:13 pm]
Just having some fun for a change with imagery… Scary to realize he’s already a month old.