Woken by a stir
His finger tips travelled the surface of my palm,
from the heel, to the centre, then gliding along my fingers,
segment by segment
As if plucking the strings of a harp.
Caressing the membrane of water
One smooth stroke,
just like his pen waltzing on paper
Gentle and firm. Unambiguous.
Aroused, I broke the shadowy darkness,
my eyes slit open
His dark amber eyes smiling, soft
Radiant in the dim
His forehead smooth, hair unruly, resting next to mine
So began the day.