the bodies furl
around and
the sleeping limbs,
and the sleeping hands.
she, with midnight eyes,
stirs and curls
her body round
his back.
those eyes close,
yet the fingers find
the sweet nut and crack.

then i feel
her hand…
i stir and rest there.

he too stirs and turns;
the skies of his eyes
darken with night.
yet, he sips a kiss
from the fingerprints
of her sleeping left hand.
they move
together slowly,
like dancers,
dancing through
time and consciousness;
never breaking contact.

hours slip;
perfect silence
but for the breathing,
and the nuzzling.

it is the quietest dawn,
as birdsong falls
upon sleeping drum;
no bugle call
or pealing bell
only the blush
of a brush
of lip over hip.

words, drift;
murmured, in
a circle of breath;
they smudge the skin,
and burrow within.
four fleeting kisses
grace her shoulder;
she places his hand
between the smouldering
grip and smelt,
to hold fast
the love there.

i feel awake,
but not forsaken.
i stretch out
and wait…


(c) Kat McDonald 2014

*apologies, i cannot find the source of this beautiful image to credit*


2 thoughts on “hibernation

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