Pecking order

First, the unruly toes peeking out of the tangled sheets.
And after a quiet hike north, the elbow,
marking two diverging paths to choose from.
Then the slide down toward the underarm,
not because it is the road less traveled,
but as a favorite resting place on rainy nights.
The right hand awaits, gently tucked under the chin,
with fingers pointing toward the pillow of the cheek.
This is where dimples happen.
It is a short skip and a hop to land,
imperceptibly soft, on an eyelid.
And back,
    for the last peck,
        upon the now smiling lips.

Melih Sener