dear god

there's a certain thrill to it
my exposed naked body
blankets torn away
in the dark
a warm hand on my stomach
creeping up to my breast
his rough fingertips
playing with my nipple
the house is quiet
I can hear him breathing
his beard rustling against the pillowcase
as he slides closer to my side
"are you mine?" he asks
"I'm all yours," I whisper back
dear god
he makes me glad
I was born a woman