That quivering tone your voice takes,
I want to always know
its sound as you meander through stories.
I want to always feel your breath,
growing heavy as you tire,
coming out in wafts as you laugh,
binding up in the back
of your throat as you grow tender. Continue reading Bedside Manner
I get an infinitely vague sensation like you’d been holding me — one arm around my waist and the other up my back. Maybe at one point, you’d held me close enough that your breath rushed down my neck amid the slow, automated motion of your chest rising and falling. I can trace the very thread of memories as if I’d lived them until it all unravels in an instant. Continue reading You Were Mine and Then …
There’s a certain way that you lay the sheets and quilts — perhaps more generously to one side — that … Continue reading The Fine Art of Bed Making
Pent-Up Aching Rivers 