over the ridges and hard planes

my palm flattens on your chest
fingers fleetingly flutter
synchronizing with your heartbeat
oblivious to me, you sleep on-
supposedly dreaming of me?

your shirt on that chair
half-torn, gently sways
to the fan above, dancing
to the shadows on the wall
from the starlit summer night

my palm moves yet again
over the ridges and hard planes
feeling the warmth of you
sighing, I fall heavily beside you
contented yet unsatisfied

if I could wake the sun up now, I would
on second thoughts, why should I

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks Aila for the italized line.