While You Think I Am Sleeping

Drifting off to another dream,

Fingertips gently glide over my bare shoulder

arms,

thigh,

repeating in that order like a lullaby from my childhood.

It stops. 

My entire entity disturbed, awaiting the peace of  his touch.

It returns,

the long dark tendril that covers my face,

swept away to rest on  the back of my shoulder.

Another pause.

I feel his loving gaze radiating over me.

His fingertips find my lips,

The softest touch, like a whisper lost in the wind.

With a breath of time,

his lips find mine in the darkness

I awaken to the perfect dream.