once

We pause, to move. Me kneeling at the edge of the bed and you behind me. I can't remember why, something must not have been comfortable. Spontaneously, finally, you put your hands over me. One covers and holds my right breast, the other reaches between my legs and cups my pussy, seals me tight. For a moment in the darkness, I am held and owned. I am balanced and your hands on me feel just exactly right. It's perfect. It's surprising.

Later on I tell you that. The way I'm supposed to do, to communicate about sex. You sound surprised in return, as if you don't understand what you did or why I care. You don't understand that I've waited years for that one little moment.

And you still don't do it again.