A COUGH 1997
Nuala watches
her husband Brian
snore as she lies
beside him
in the bed.
Early hours
and birds beginning
to sing in dawn's light.
She thinks of Una
in another bed elsewhere
and wants her there
without Brian
and his snores
and fumbling sex.
Last night
was a chore.
Two minute wonders.
Half a dozen kisses
at most.
Into her
then out
and on his back
panting like a dog.
No prince
from this frog.
Una had kissed
each part of her
from head to toes
and likewise to her
the day before.
Brian grunts
and turns away.
Broad back
like a bull
sleeping there.
Little foreplay
with him.
No prelude or overture
to his opera of sex.
Just down to it
like a dog
on a bone.
Una plays her
to a sweet melody.
Fingers her
to high thrills.
Brian mutters
in his sleep.
Nuala turns away
and faces the wall.
She muses on
the first date
in Dublin.
He dressed
to kill.
Suited up
and thin green tie.
She'd worn that
skinny dress
which showed off
the outline
of her arse.
Gagging for it
he was.
First date.
No way Mister.
Chaperoned anyway
distantly by her sister.
Nuala wishes
Una was there.
The body of her
near or next.
Lips to her.
Kisses placed
here and there.
Putting Smarties
on her and saying
suck these off.
Brian snores.
A small cough.
