I trace the smooth oval of your face,
the breath of hair along your ears,
and the firm roundness of your half-closed eyes.
Down along the strong, prominent, proud nose
to the swelling of your lips pursed in thought,
I trace; down across the boundary of your jaw
along the neck to the still supple shoulders, arms, and hands -
hands made for work.
Then back, centering, to your narrow belly, and up
to pause forever along your breasts.
You look up from your sudoku and laugh;
I put down my pencil and smile in return;
You know my thoughts,
As I do yours.