I want to rub my hands across the soft cream of your body. I want to make indentures into your stomach and watch the white spot linger and go. I will watch you drowsily roll over towards me, open your eyes briefly, and smile. I could watch you smile forever. I could hold you here just as long. Entwine my arms around yours, underneath yours like a complicated puzzle. I will wrap my body into yours, matching jigsaw for jigsaw, as I curl and scoot closer to your. The sound of your mumbled, have-dozed how are you brings me home. The feeling of flesh and bone. The gentleness of a lover. Kiss gently the soft skinned cheek, trailing my lips over your neck and onto the top of your spine. Slowly run my hand across the bone down your naked back, clad only in blanket and cold air. You shiver and move closer to my warmth. The minor heat of your body does not fill me, but your presence does. I move my hand down your peach soft legs. Your scent of baby newness and budding leaves reach my nostrils and I take it in. What are you doing. A half heard and half understood question; I lean in to run my lips against yours, open now. They are dry like mine. I feel you smile, and I lick your upper lip in response. You are too much. Does it matter who says it? We both feel it as I reach around to hold on. I inhale your exhaled breath. You are ticklish down where your body meets your legs, so I caress that spot. I want you closer. You jerk and giggle a little. We are matched skin for skin but still I want you closer. Still I want you more. I play briefly in the patch of hair below your belly button. You press closer still, tighter, nearer, further into my embrace. Hands rubbing hands, fingers pressing into flesh, lips running over shoulders and necks. I will not let you sleep until I have had my fill of your body, of your breath, of your being. More than an exchange of lust, it is an exchange of desire and love. I know that tomorrow I will climb dazed from your bed. I know that tomorrow I will have to leave this. But, for now, a tender feeling and perfect moment.
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