This is us, sleeping.

 

We sleep spooning. Legs akimbo, the untangling an architectural problem we’ll worry about in the morning. Your slackening hand on my hip lures humming blood to secret places, and my face.

 

I whisper in your ear till no speaking is left in me. Your lobe, my lips - kiss. 

 

Three quilts pressing us like dried flowers, we wait for morning to discover us knotted in one another. There is deep sighing, tiny “yes” noises, and fingertip touches. 

 

This is us, sleeping.

 

Reviews

[SunshineKim]

Breath taking. You've stolen it from me.

[Emily B]

it's not a story at all, but pure poetry, distilled in the purest form

[An Ordinary Woman]

this has that image again ... almost too much beauty to peek in on, it's so lovely, touching. Beautiful...