Early Morning Sweet Nothings (aka I Wake Up With Enough Morning Wood To Build A Cabin)

2AM again, a restless dream, undressing under twilight
but somebody has to keep the moon company.

Yes, yes, you said. Not yet, no, not yet. 
I call you Gaia and kiss the sands, 
jump and dance and make a mess, 
and I laugh, you laugh, we laugh;
the moonlight kisses us.  

If only I could love you properly- 
my fingers ready, edging, always aching 
for yours. So young, and bold, and hairy. 
Able. Graying. 

No, no, you said. No, not yet, not yet. 
You call me worrier, kiss my hands, 
jump and dance and make the bed, 
and I laugh, I laugh, I laugh; 
the sunlight kisses us.

But my hands start thinning.