As you took your leave of me this evening,
I had this forbidden image
of the two of us, warm in the sunlight
streaming through our window on our unmade bed;
me pulling you giggling down over me
as we bounced upon the fitted bottom sheet~~
free and safe together in our own home and
afire in the afternoon sun
in love still after all these years.

And if I were to write this,
call it a poem,
then send it to you.
I would call simply it,
"Our."