Knock softly to find me in the spare room, set to the side for tired eyes to visit. Where I am nested in silky cream linens, undercover. Drawn shades with dappled golden light; always.
From across the room, you watch me, pleased at my stillness. And pinned under your stare, I wait. As you slowly drink me in, up and then down. And maybe back up again.
Slow steps towards me, then shadowed by shoulders, broad and wide. Strong hands filled with paused intention, suspenseful as they take their time. And wander over my soft form. Pressed against me, I ache to take you in. Interlaced fingers, parted lips.