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