Depending upon the night
Or the morning even
A few butterflies land
Bumblebees bounce buzz about
I play your ribs
Like a Chopin sonata
Reaching for your flank
Like a master carpenter
Searching for low impressions
Exploring your ebony plank
Making my mental notes
Of places to revisit
Suddenly we’re on skis
Swooshing sliding and slithering
Down towards the bottom
Landing in a drift
Snowy white down comforter
Giggling at our craziness
Waiting for the candles
Of our eyes to
Slowly sleepily flicker out
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 