Her naked breasts rest against my chest. In concert our bodies rise and fall. Her breath is warm against my neck and her cheek presses against my shoulder. My arm wraps around her naked back, her skin smooth, soft like silk, and I pull her tighter against me, she exhales. My fingers trace the curve of her arm, down to the bump of her elbow, and then back up again tracing the previous path with a different finger. Her skin raises in bumps as though the air suddenly chilled and my fingers are a blanket.

In the darkness I see her outline with the light from the computer’s blue power light. Her hair mussed from an evening of pressing her head against the bed, churning against the blankets and pillows, until she came to rest. The outline of her cheek, relaxed eyes, and the curve of a satisfied smile. Her naked shoulder disappears under the blanket and her arm rests on my stomach and her fingers against my chest, soft, sleeping. Under the blanket her leg’s skin is hot against my thigh as it folds around it. Her panties press against me, reminding me of my desire for her. Her stomach presses against mine.

I lay there with her body against mine, in the dark, in the silence broken only by her breathing. She inhales deeply from exhaustion and releases all her tension as her breath leaves her. I place my free hand on her cheek to let her know, in the secrets of her dreams, that I am there, feeling her, all of her. If only there were a way for us to sink into one form and never be two, then that would be worth all that I am and am not.

And as I breathe in her perfume-scented skin I realize the world has stopped and that we are one. Intertwined without beginning, without end. It matters not which limb is mine, which is hers, we are one. Our chests rise together. We breathe in. We breathe out. We sleep and the night is ours.