early morning silence. silent but for the sound of your breath, quiet, even, mingled with mine here in the sprawling sunshine of early spring. you breathe in, sigh out, murmur contentedly and i smile in response. lots of smiles, hard to resist. i like being here. in your arms, in what it all means to be with another person but not really with them. i hear the birds outside your window, i feel the birds inside my body, chirping happily as they only can with renewal. your hands wander, find my hands, interlocking, and our hips press together in a fluid motion, resting somewhere between comfort and sexuality. right where we like it, isn’t it? vaguely romantic, bluntly simple. but simplicity is a gift often ignored, and i revel in it. i get as close as i can. turning my head away from you so i can feel your entire chest against my back, i feel my face, raw, surely red, the aftermath of a drunken evening. your beard, unshaven for longer than a few days, touched my cheeks in ways theyve longed for for months. you touched me in ways ive wanted for longer. i dont want to move. i dont want to disturb you, or this moment. i keep still, painting a memory, i want to keep it in my pocket, always, next to me; this is what it’s like to live. to be young, to be free, non-conformed, unconfirmed, everything i have always wanted to be right now. i roll over, bury my head in your shoulder, your hair, your chest. you kiss me and i dont care. you kiss me again. i kiss you back. life is simple, life is complicated, but this moment, this feeling, it’s all real.