My prized southern boy..

"Good night baby, I love you" he purrs to me in his deep voice and heavy                           southern          
                 drawl.                      
His big, blue eyes take their last glances of          
   the day as the tides                                          
        of sleepiness wash over him.                        
              Eye lids weighting heavily.                      
"Sweet dreams babe, I love you too". I whisper back
         through the gentle darkness.                        
He touches my face, and his full, warm lips          
        make contact with mine....                            
    The last kiss of                                                
            the day.                                                    
His body then falls limp as sleep overtakes him.    
Always an admirer of beauty,                                
   I seize the oppertunity to take a long, languid, self-indulgent
              lokk at him...                                          .
It is summer and the room is balmy,                      
     lit only by the shimmering                                
             full moon through the window.                
  He rests comfortably stretched                            
                     out on his back.                              
I notice how the the soft moonlight casts a            
             silvery  glow over the entirety of              
                  his long, lean body...                          
It makes his hair, beard, and body hair                  
                                 almost glitter.                       .
I  touch his face and let my fingers trace                
      the angular, smooth features of  his face,          
undisturbed by my touch,                                      
    I continue on,                                                      
         running my fingers over his                            
                                  lips,      
                                      beard,      
                                            cheek bones,
                                                   and neck.        
His sleeping state has created a look                      
           of total peace and contentment,                    
                  a silent beauty...                                    
I love tracing his skin                                               .
His breathing is a soft rythem,                                  
  I can almost hear his heart beat through the            
      slow rise and fall of his chest.                              
I smile to myself appreciating the feel                        
        of the different textures of the various                
                  planes of his form...                                
From the dense hairs that blanket his                        
         chest and flat stomach, as well as the                
                      cottony soft ones on his arms.....          
   To the smooth feel of the flesh of his shoulders,        
                                    strong torso,                          
                                           and firm, senewy thighs...
                          To the satiny feel of                          
                                    his most male region...            
              Still, he does not stir.                                      
I raise one of his scarred, calloused big hands              
                    to my mouth                                            
                             and                                                
               placea single kiss in the palm.                        
                    I feel my own eyelids getting heavy,            
  I ponder at the tragedy it is                                          
 that this man knows nothing of the beauty he posseses.  
  A truly attractive man.                                                    
       A beautful man                                                           .
A momentary twinge of self gratifying pride                        
     as I think to myself,                                                      
                  "My man."