Breakfast in Bed

Cold fingers down the heated spine,
Flesh to flesh, meld and intertwine,
Throats to coddle, hair caressed,
Shoulders consumed, breath digressed.
Sheets of white linen cotton,
Blur colors long forgotten,
Time stuck in a monsoon,
Breakfast under the full moon.

Eyes wander open to lay,
Face anew in bright ray,
Like air yet to be breathed,
Hungrily sighed and heaved,
Awaiting conciseness to pinch and awake,
From the dream world, collapse and quake,
But illusions continue with hearts delight,
As its beating increases, flutters to flight.

Presents remains as dawn grows on,
As if to hear the others soul's song,
Daylight tasks all lost, beclouded as strife,
Content now to enjoy this breakfast for life,
Spin the room and dazzle away,
Rush out all inside, exotically fray,
So soft and smooth fingers to your face,
I can feel your love in every over trace.

Morning comes, and morning goes,
Was it today the red sun arose?
Illuminating the light in your eyes,
Cool liquid soft, with longing pries,
Burn of lips against sweet skin,
Smoldering hearts lost therein,
Racing by, all too short is time - we've heard it said,
They must have been speaking of breakfast in bed.