Leaning against the door, she studies him.
She walks around, soft; coffee cup in hand,
Taking silent sips, tongue tracing the rim
Up for an hour; he lies in sleep land
Gently easing onto the bed, sitting,
Reaching over, nudging, playfulness paid
He wakes and grins; bodies entwine, fitting.
But, what if the need to cuddle exceeds
The want of contact, company and touch?
What is pull, and what is push; what misleads
If he misunderstands; What is too much?
“Good morning” he says, hugging her so tight
Waking him, early thus, ends up all right.