Float

I will encourage you

to lay down on sheets.

They’re clean,

mostly, maybe

a day or two wrinkled.

But they smell of me.

Peonies, spring warmth

when earth blooms.

I’ll turn the lamp off, click.

Silence floats over our limbs.

My fingers trail your arm,

twist hairs, invite your touch.

If you don’t respond, I’ll stop.

My hand drift away.

Make my breath shallow,

match yours.