Indolence

Let's sample indolence today,
lay hold of lazing hours and make them ours
to daze ourselves deliciously
with sleep
and, in between our naps,                                  
with mouth on mouth repeatedly.

And then, when after that, when we're replete
and careless,  eye to eye and cosset coved,
let's doze the day away,
and then the night
by melting in each others arms upon my couch,
my floor,  my bed
like slowly heated caramel;

make jealous laziness itself
in how we, listless, lie unworried and unworrying,
our limbs yawned out, sheet whorled,
in easy flow, a  slinking slumberous waterfall.

Let’s take the time we have to lay in turns
our curiosities to rest:

about what sweet effect my calculated touch
upon that certain secret
target point upon your breasts might have,

how long and how intensively a focused wispy stroke,
above your eyes, along your ear,
repeated once,
and then again,
would make you catch and hold your breath;

about the nature of the hungry arcs
your fingertips along my inner leg
might swell and swanning swoop within my hips.