Through Blurry Eyes

 The rustle of skin
brushed up against sheets;
arms searching blindly
til finally you find me
and wrap yourself tightly around.
The crack in the drapes
lets the daylight pour in,
chests slowly rising
and falling and sighing
in rhythm with barely a sound.
The brush of my fingers
that slide up your spine,
mapping your jawline
and tracing your temple
and pulling your body in close.
It’s those placid minutes
before any words
are uttered
that I love the most.