muffled

in         white         spaces
we-full-feel

        under
        cotton
        sheets
light pinpoints where bones curve faces
where hands go on bodies
my hair rests on your's
so comfortable and methodic
we can predict each other's moves

what we feel is
not empty, not lost
but something

something
less         tangible
than         lust
more         immediate
than         indifference

is stretched along the days.