Squeezed in a tight hug, lost in your lips and, suddenly, a playful hand climbing up inside my pyjamas' tee and gently lying against the skin on the middle of my back.
Its warmth is so comforting I could even call it 'home'. It's satisfying, as if I were in pain without realizing it and that simple touch had made everything go away. I'm somehow sure I will not forget how this feeling deploys and unfolds on my chest, electrifying every nerve, giving the word 'intimacy' new meanings.
You may think I'm stupid. How can an open hand against my naked back be more meaningful than having you inside me?
Oh well, I don't know. Feelings are just that, and sometimes unaccounted for. This is, actually, one of those little things I end up treasuring in my mind, as they bring me closer to you when the world is just too cold.
You spooning me. You, slow-kissing me. Your fingers tangled with mine. A smile only for my eyes to see. A whisper of how much you love me within the mist of an early sleep
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