after

as she lays across my ample hips, exhausted and aching, the glow of the tv dances across her silohoutte. I trace the arch of back with my fingertips across 
the inviting dimples she blushes, hides her face. I sometimes enjoy this part the most. The relaxation, comfort. The part where I can observe her, see her at her most vulnerable, watch and touch her. My fingers down the arch of her back, cross the curve of her hips to the roundness of her tender ass. To see her smile, giggle and blush melts heart, makes me fall a little a bit. I need to remind myself it cant be. Never us or we. Always me. Always her. I come to reality, die a bit and fall.