I wish that you would lift my chin
with the tender underbelly of your middle knuckle
of your pointer finger
and that you would trace the line
of my strawberry lips
with the fingerprint of your thumb
softly memorizing the asymmetry
of a face not fit to model but somehow
fit to be deserving of your touch

I wish that you would brush my cheek
with the tips of your eyelashes
as they flutter to sleep next to me
your breath soft and steady
like a gentle wave expanding and receding
on the pale shore of my bare neck
whispering life into a cold shoulder
that softens at the cool warmth
of an unapologetic slumber.