Intimacy

His nose tickles my cheek and my neck as he pulls me closer.

There is music playing.

Something that has played a million times, but with his fingers grabbing my belt loops swaying my hips to the rhythm of his breath in my ear I don’t mind.

This is intimacy.

Presence without performance. Unwrapping each other emotionally. Seeing each other for who we truly are, and staying.

Leaning in closer to taste even more of this imperfection.

This isn’t a honeymoon, it’s better.

It’s his hands scrubbing my back in the shower. It’s my borrowing his deodorant.

This isn’t a performance anymore.

We piss each other off regularly, yet we always return.

We have no fear of rejection.

There is no reason not to show up exactly as we are; broken, sad, anxious, excitable.

This is intimacy.

His breath in my ear as we barely even sway… resting in the embrace.

This isn’t just now, this isn’t just today. This is tomorrow and all of the days.

This is intimacy.

His breath tickles and excites me.

I cannot wait to be pissed off again.