as i sit at my dressing table
removing my pearls
i hear him rise from his chair in the study

it is the time of night he likes to watch

his footsteps coming down the hall
cause the silken straps of my gown
to no longer remember my shoulders

the heat of him
leans against my doorway

pulling my stockings off with his thoughts

when his hands find my hair
and the softness of my thighs

he no longer resists

becoming one

we step to the edge

choosing to fall