Content
Pulse of breathing,
Pushing your chest against my back,
Bumping me,
Like the slow thud of the bedside clock.
A million dreams tumble in you,
Swirling under your tresses,
Splayed over the pillows and my neck.
A sigh comes with a flicker of your limbs,
You seem content,
Untouched, enthralled, but at peace.
Alive and not,
Your breath warms my neck.
I only want to make your waking days,
As beautiful as your sleep.
November 2011
