There has to be a kind of speech
beyond naming, or even praise,
a discipline
that locates light and lets it go.
- "Observer", by Nate Klug
It is not lust
(or at least not yet)
which only makes it more beautiful
and more confusing
It is your hand caressing
the cloth that keeps my arm
your face seeking closeness to mine
closeness alone
your hand resting on my bare skin
your whole body resting
beside my uninterrupted nakedness
just resting
even when I feel you awakening next to me
your hand rests
and remains
and keeps the stillness
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