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Mornings

Creases on a crisp white sheet,
Clothing strewn in happy disarray.
In sleep tangled fingers firmly meet,
Express so much more than mere words can say.

Sweet breaths rise and fall together,
Caress so soft it almost escapes notice.
Sharp as a razor's edge yet gentle as a feather,
Moans muffled with a sleepy kiss.

So eager yet so hesitant,
A need to give, more so to share.
Even in urgency a touch almost reverent,
Bodies exposed or souls laid bare.

Ebbing and flowing, a tempo so unique,
Sensations too intense to be mutely borne.
My eyes flutter open and its you they seek,
Was this your dream or my own?

Submitted: Sunday, February 16, 2014


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