You plant kisses like spring bulbs in the curve of my neck;
I meld into you -
sinew and bone flows into blood pulsating in every caught breath
as the tip of your nose grazes my ear;
I love you nips playfully at my lobe
turning me into you like a jewellery box doll -
that slow pirouette to the tune of you and me and us.
There lies waiting room silence and you wash I’ll dry in your eyes
causing me to shiver as your fingertips trace the curve of my hips
to the rhythm of your hand in mine, fingers interlinked.
You breathe me like Christmas morning and mumble my name in your sleep
and I watch longing to kiss the twitch in your lips when your dreams turn to dark.