Dreamland

We fell asleep 

Lying on our sides

Cocoon-like

Spooning tightly

Warm silk

In the winter parchment moonlight.

Her breast 

Filled my cupped hand

Like a soft warm grapefruit

Breathing...

She had long ago pushed her hair

A-way up 

Into the 

Valleys and hills 

Of the pillow landscape

Shepherded

By pretty 

Fingers and lotioned hands.

I could

Still smell the residue of

Vanilla and amber

On the supple shifting dunes

Of her shoulders

Neck

And spine.

My hardness pressed

Against

The elegantly drawn curve

Of her ass

Settling into the crack

Just right

Thinking on it’s own accord

Having it’s own dreams.

It was at this moment that I awoke

And took notice of all this.

The clock said 3:42.

In that cold grey light

Brimming through the frosted glass

From outside

12 degrees fahrenheit

To be exact

I was bare witness to

The soft creamy perfection

When peanut butter meets chocolate.

Of when a breast became a grapefruit

And a cock was free to think

On it’s own

Until the sun came up.