She goes, I
delay with a book.
Stealing
glances at curves,
Toes to neck,
maroon-white duvet.
Hours later,
I crawl next,
Her hands
instantly land,
Over my
chest, her fingers coil.
Her tender
legs, diagnose my own,
As she
grazes over my gentleman,
I kiss her
front, she smiles in the dream.
She breathes
above my thumping beats,
Ears to the
rhythm; pump and pause,
Soothing her
into musical slumber.
She
withdraws, I face the other side
The field is
recharged, effortlessly
Once more,
the magnets attract.
Shifting
round her arc, arm near glands,
Foot between
her, itchy size five feet,
The inverse
switches, until dawn emerges.
Awake now,
she smiles before speech,
“I think, in
our sleep we normally are,
Performing
some sought of developing dance.”
M.O.O aka
Carswell evoL
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