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Contour
Your body lights up the vast dark bedroom
and I trace the contours of your bare chest with my index finger,
lost in just you.
You whisper pleasantries in my ear,
and I smile,
watching my finger carve its own course along your belly.
I respond with a mere ‘thanks’,
unaware of how much of you you’re willing to give up for me
and how much I have to give to catch up.
We lay awake for hours,
intertwined in the sheets and wrapped up in the heat of us,
the only sounds are an exhale or murmur of content.
Even though we’ve been here before,
my heart beats in frantic bursts when you shift your weight,
i’m scared to hear you say ‘time to go’.
Those words stab deeper than anything you could do
or say to me,
but luckily it is not that time yet.
Eventually we pull the sheets around us
and hug each other tight,
yearning for more than body heat.
But before we lose ourselves
in a world created from our soul,
we ourselves are fueled by the desire to be closer than the physical body can ever allow.
I am in a daze. Wanting to stay in this moment,
yet needing to move to the next stage in this process,
pushing for more than we can achieve at this point.
What are we doing here?
So content to settle with this fraction of what we could really be with each other.
It just doesn’t add up to what we will become.
But I continue to trace,
and your sweet pleasantries make me breath relief,
and I realize that this is just one night of many to come.
