When I woke in early morning,

There he was on edge of bed,

Reflecting light, staring into space,

Lost within his thoughts.

Was he focused on what we did last night?

My eyes trace the shadows on his back,

Naked skin warm, inviting to my hand.

I love him most when he smells of sleep.

His hair a mess, dreams still possessed.

So I pause and watch,

Not wanting him to know I am awake,

Taking in his beauty without a sound.

I want to touch

Yet not disturb the quiet of the moment.

One word from me, one touch of hand—

Knowing he would turn and speak.

If I so much as stir,

Unconscious vulnerability would disappear,

So I lie upon the bed and do not move an inch,

Protect him while he’s unprotected…..