THE MAP (I.P.)

I lean on one elbow
Watching as you sleep
A whisper of warm breath on my cheek
Like a gentle breeze –
Your nose twitches as you dream,
A little hill between your eyebrows,
A tiny scar on one –
I caress it with my fingertip.
You shiver at my touch.
I stroke your hair
All tousled on the pillow,
And move my fingers
To trace the lines
Like parallel rivers on your forehead.
Hair-thin wrinkles around your eyes –
Spread out like tributaries
Run down to the smooth desert of your cheeks.
Small cracks showing the passage of sorrow
And of laughter.
I cherish each one.
The roads your life has taken
All mapped out
On your beloved face.