His back flows underneath my fingertips as I glide my hand across his back, up to his shoulder blades, to his neck, and then back down across his hilly biceps. His body relaxes as my fingers graze his skin. His breath is easy. His chest rises and falls. His breath quickens. His hands clench, his eyes cinch tight and I wonder if I am what he is thinking about. His body a beautiful landscape my small hands have roamed more than I can count. His hands are giant, calluses have taken over the fingertips, and the creases in his palms are deep and look like wrinkles. He has a powerful grip. His scars are small and raise the surface of his skin. His hands unclench. His eyes open.  His arms open, creating the space perfect for my body to fit. My head slowly lowers onto his chest. I feel his heartbeat and his breathing; I start to keep the same pace with my own breathing. We slowly drift off into sleep as I dream of his terrain.