Flatware

You hold me from behind,
Spoon.
Your arms wrap around my waist, one hand cupping my heart, the other close to my center, your fingers ever so gently reaching my waistband.
I want you to go deeper, I want your fingers to actually touch me there, as I want always.
Fork.
Fuck.
But your body starts to weight on me before I can even ask if you're staying and your slow deep breathing on the back of my neck answers me anyways.
You're staying and you're sleeping.
I'm wide awake. But strangely, I'm not upset.
You're sleeping and you're staying. And I am happy. Happy? Yes, happy.
Not long after that realization I sleep too, with a smile on my lips,  your body, my body, spoon.