Enveloping my soul into your chest,
Your shoulder the perfect cradle for my tired head,
Filled with too many thoughts and held high for so long,
Now allowed to turn off it’s litany at last
And listen to the soft sounds of a whispered smile,
Your fingertip greeting my temple with butterfly touches
Moving hairs that fell out of place just to lure them there
Because I love your touch.
My palm greets your heart beat,
Open and solid on your chest
Caressing the music it shares with me,
Tingling with a secret force
Following the rise and fall of your breathing.
How can I discern all of the notes in our symphony of touches?
So complex and yet plain.
A melody of warmth and scent,
Of soft brushes of flesh and tender manipulations
All bound together with loose silver cords that neither bind nor force.
A contented trough between the crescendos.
Surrounded by you and your lullaby of assurances,
- the South