Your fingers walk it.
From my arm pit,
down along my side
crawling, slowly,
tickling.
You’re almost asleep,
so am I.
The voyagers take a
nap here and there, but
continue
to my hip,
slide over to my stomach
to dance for a spell;
circles.
Up, back, zig zag,
traversing past my breasts,
to my neck,
palming my cheek bone,
caressing my ear.
This is the point where I’ll
either get a good
night kiss, or,
as I hope,
you’ll take another lap…