Oh.
There is another woman in my bed
whose soft body sprawls into my sheets
she calls me to her arms
a makes love to me in an art long lost
her wild hair and rain sweat hands
glide through my every thought
with an ocean air that courses in
this window, between these sheets
forcing our bodies apart
tickling and rippling over her 
delightful skin
Her smell so keenly feminine
only just masks the sweat 
of my husband on this bed
where he carves his hips
in mine
to summarize a word no longer
mentioned between us: love.
She pulls the sheet across
her back and envelopes us both
seals us with her air filled kiss
and there she spoonfeeds me
with her honeyed breath.