Daylight seeps through the black and white curtains,
Like fingers tearing through fabric,
Touching his skin.  
Soft,
Dark,
Sound asleep.
His back is turned to face me,
And in the morning light,
I see the stretchmarks I love,
Stretching beyond horizons,
Beyond untouched barriers.
Striae like streams flowing into rivers,
Rivers draining into oceans,
Beckoning explorers to brave the choppy currents.
I trace them with my fingertips,
Sending shivers down his spine,
Electrical jolts down mine.
I close my eyes,
Hold him tight.
Before I know it,
Day has turned into night.
Just like that,
Sunbeam into moonlight.
There is a cacophony,
Of gentle snores,
Groggy moans,
Words mumbled through half-awaken lips,
Words I can’t really make out.
I roll to the edge of the bed,
Prop myself up.
He turns to face me,
Eyes still shut,
And mumbles,
Stay.