Caught in a Dream

I am caught in a dream,
Captivated by a fantasy,
One where his fingers are not
Wrapped around a bow or the
Neck of cello
Drawing out sweet, low melodies
With slow, gentle strokes;
No,
His slender fingers are twining
Through my hair,
Caressing with each smooth motion
As they get lost
Wandering about my fallen curls.
He's not calmly conversing
From a respectable distance;
His breath is ghosting my skin,
Leaving a trail of shivers in its wake.
He's close enough that
My lips find his,
That I can press my fingertips,
My mouth even,
To his scars and he can do the same
To mine.

I am lost in the idea
That he might want to be
Close to me.