I watch him sleep
Peaceful and passive
I watch like a bird of prey
How his curves look like a sculpture today.
Solid, unassuming, rolling, cajoling,
Watch his seething sexuality.
He twitches as a strand of my hair floats to his skin,
Teasing the flexed follicles.
All around is silent
Soon the birds will sing and wake him from his slumber.
He sighs deeply
His thoughts engaged in another world
Of which I hope I am part of if not whole
I imagine his body next to me.