Mornings have become my favorite time as my thoughts and dreams dwell
on memories we create.

The way my fingertips tingle as they caress your bearded lips,
idly stroking hair covered cheeks. 
The gentlest trace over your closed eyes 
Your breath is slowly exhaled, and I wonder
Is my touch painful? Do I stop?

As with a mind of their own my fingers keep moving
finding their place around the back of your neck

Your breath is warm against my face
As you move closer
My heart beats faster
Faster

Anticipation
Waiting for your lips to touch mine
Wanting
I wet my lips knowing the intimate dance to come
I’m waiting

Your lips touch mine lightly 
Too gentle
Hearts beat faster
Echoing

I lean forward into your arms intent on touching as much
of you as I can.

Strong hands rub my back dropping lower
drawing me closer
Not close enough
Mouths open wider savoring the taste of passion on each other
Hands move to my neck and up
To cup my head
Fingers snake through my hair

You hold on tighter, and I whimper my delight 
Your grasp pulls me forward
My hair is loose now
Twisted through your fingers

Bodies entangled and encircled
The front of you is strained against me
Hands slowly fall away
I open my eyes

Looking into yours I see myself and for an instant a
glimpse of your passion for me. 
and at this moment my only thought is if you could know
how much your tenderness and passion affect me

And what promise I would give for this moment again
as I tilt my head silently begging for another morning memory.