there is a place softer than sleep,
quieter than the hush between waves,
where i forget where my body stops
and yours starts—
your lap, your hands, your breath
braiding me into the moment
like a thread pulled through silk.
fingers slow, wandering, learning,
finding stories in my hair
that neither of us wrote
but both of us know.
the kind told without words,
only the hum of a thumb across my temple,
the rise and fall of a chest that is mine
and yours
and ours.
my cheek on your leg,
the fabric warm from you,
the world outside shrinking,
turning to nothing but the sound of you breathing,
the rhythm of us matching without trying,
without thinking,
like we were made to move in the same time.
i could spend lifetimes here,
in the space between your ribs,
the dip of your knee,
the cradle of your arms,
held like something precious,
held like something known.
and maybe that’s it.
not just the warmth, not just the weight,
not just the touch,
but the knowing—
that here,
like this,
i belong.
but i can never let you see this.
never let you read the way i dream of sinking into you,
the way my body aches not just to be close,
but to be wanted close.
to be held because you want to hold me,
not just because i fit into the space beside you.
if you knew—if you saw—
would you pull away?
would the space between us grow sharp,
like silence that means something different than it used to?
so i will press delete.
i will fold this feeling up small,
tuck it between the pages of my ribs,
and pray you never notice
the way i shiver when you touch me.
Sometimes I find that there is nothing more peaceful than a lover's embrace. And yet, sometimes, it's even harder to express that feeling with said lover.
