i dream about your lips on mine,
my sweet winter girl,
how you would taste
and feel

and in my dreams i run my fingers down the curve of your breasts and they settle there 
on your hips and it is intimate and loving
and i lie there for awhile, resting my head upon your stomach
and we are peaceful and in love and it is beautiful like all things are.

your fingers carding through my hair and the ups and downs of your belly
as you breathe long and slow almost put me to sleep.
but when you speak to me i do not startle
for your voice is low and private, a kind thing
just for the two of us.

you tell me of your dreams, ones you have put aside
laugh through the stories of the people you meet, and have met
the ones you love, fierce and protective you are of these ones,
the special and honored, i think, to be able to hold your love in their hands so easily, so unaware of the gift you have given them.
and then, the two you don’t quite hate
(but it’s close, that resentment, we both know)

and in return
i tell you my secrets, the coveted
my embarrassments, the many
and my flaws.
the worst, my achievements, the few things i am proud of.
these are the words i fear most,
the ones i am frightened of.

i think the best part of lying here with you,
naked as we are, together
is not the implied sexuality of our closeness - with our breasts pressed together as we kiss, my longer body keeping you safe, our combined curves a thing of beauty -
but no,
instead it is how free i am with you
how unafraid and extremely terrified i am
at the same time.

and when your leg,
as smooth
or natural as you are in that moment
knocks against mine, neither awkward nor elegant
i am aroused, quite so
but it is the way you whisper your entire being to me so unafraid of my judgement(there is none to be had), so naked in your love for me
that makes me want to crawl inside you
and never come out.