By A.N. Flores
He talks of his day and laughs at my lame attempts at humor.
He places his ear over my heart and sighs in contentment.
My heart races at the contact
His heart pounds out of control.
We are under the sheets and the dark is kept at bay.
His fingers trace the curve of my neck. His thumbs caress my cheeks.
He presses his forehead against mine and whispers about love and forgiveness.
My lips whisper words of acceptance.
We unfetter the secrets within our souls.
We are under the sheets and the hurt is swept away.
He pulls me tight into his embrace and entangles our limbs.
He peppers my face with butterfly kisses and asks to whom I belong.
And I am lost in him.
And I know where my heart belongs;
Here in this moment, with this man,
Because we are under the sheets -together- and nothing else matters.