we never speak about it
it just happens while we lay beneath the sheets
one hand moves to my hips, gripping me close to his, pressing himself against me
and then our clothes are off, and his lips explore my body, eyes focused and calm
mine are wide like the hesitant deer I am, my mouth open in a perfect little circle, noises releasing like smoke into the air
his moans are like music to me, but he is so quiet and his walls are built so high that it is impossible to break

i want to talk about it. i want to hear about his day and his mood, but i suppose his head between my legs will have to do.