Magic

I believe the only time
my fingers touched excellence
was when I moved them
to the contours of her full body.
She lay next to me
spent in togetherness,
half asleep, half aware
of the admiration.
I put my index finger
on her forehead and
gently pushed her strand back.
She opened her eyes for
a fraction of a second
and closed.
'Your soft fingers, I like'
I recalled she had said
last night, when I held her hand.
I moved my finger from
her brow to her eyes
to her chiselled pointed nose
to those well-carved lips.
I stop there for a minute
tempted to satiate mine,
but, perhaps my fingers
did justice to the moment.
I relaxed my fingers
on her long slender neck,
that she said was her zone.
A sudden tickle disturbed her sleep,
she gave an assuring smile.
I took one full look at her
wrapped in silk, her entire body,
now, aware of my eyes
travelling through her,
shivered in compliance.
She breathed deep and
closed her eyes.
I sat in awe,
the magic sinking into me.