Slow

When you sleep
sprawled across the bed,
I find spaces to be tender with you.
Secret fingertips trace the line of your shoulder.
Baby kisses settle on the shape of each vertebrae
all the way down your back.
Long fingers slip between your thighs,
to touch soft shapes.
I lick the seam where bottom meets thigh.

Slow baby,
Slow,
I remind myself.
I wait until your breathing deepens
before my lips return to your skin,
and I can slip past your defenses.
with the hot wet tip of my tongue.