and while your other hand cups my cheek
I can feel the rough edge of your calloused palm
against the pillow of my skin
The room is dark
but muted yellow bends round the door frame
and moth shadows dance and twirl
in the glow
My back is turned away
and the weight of me
balances on an invisisble thread
laced between you
and the world
You pull me in
turn me
envelope the all of me
into your folded self
And there is a moment
when our curved bodies
arc
cup like
and new wine pours
into old skins
and we shimmer
Sigh. The words that you pour out are so rich. Seem so effortless. Stunning, Holly. Stunning.
ReplyDeleteOh Brenna, thank you, friend.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful. Ahh, thank you, Lord, for moments like this that infuse us with joy. Thank you for writers like Holly who draw us into their joy moments so that we can breathe relief as well.
ReplyDeleteGenevieve, grateful that these words can sigh into your deep places, as well. Thank you for being in this space.
ReplyDeleteOh Holly. This is lovely and sensual and perfect.
ReplyDeleteThank you so very much, Eyvonne.
ReplyDeletemy thoughts exactly, Brenna. this piece has such a flow, such a grace.
ReplyDeleteHe does this to me, truly. All I have to do is think about him and out it comes...
ReplyDeleteGorgeous.
ReplyDeleteSuch beauty, Holly. Thank you for this glorious glimpse. This intimacy borne of knowing...what a gift.
ReplyDelete