Love is a burst. Of feeling, of commitment, of gratitude, of contented bliss. Someone once asked me why I was single. Answered simply, people are selfish and I am too giving and I have not found a true accomplice who makes me burst forth. But I always have hope.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
The simple comfort of someone's slow breath drifting off and the quiet warmth of waking to sleepy skin. The close, intimate business of joined slumber requires a body's ability to fully trust and relinquish; the most contented of all exhales. This feeling I seek forever eludes me.