skinhis skin is soft --More Like This
but soft over solid man-hardness and bones,
like pieces of smooth stone held together
just below his surface.
the smell of him hovers above his skin like a morning fog
of heat, a knowing wildness, an unassuming soap,
and the cigarettes he smokes before and after,
that are in his bloodstream and his sweat.
the smell and the soft hardness of his skin
is what erases her already-wavering uncertainty,
allowing instinct to press her nose,
her lips to his unnaturally pigmented shoulder
and follow that thin edge up his neck to his earlobe,
eliciting those captivating,
and demanding, lip-biting kisses
while her fingers grasp for more
of his freckled, tattooed skin.
she is not a natural bed-sharer
and they are both all elbows in sleep,
so she wakes hours before him
and notes his unconscious peculiarities,
wanting to wake him with a burning trail of kiss
ending in a fire like this morning's eventual sun,
but glad she refrained