Intimacy

I'm just coming off of a romantic movie marathon :  The Notebook (OMG, soo beautiful), In The Land of Women (why did Meg Ryan get plastic surgery? so upsetting), and The Holiday (loved it).  Now I'm thinking about my drought and wondering if sex is what I actually need  Perhaps I'm just lacking intimacy.  Which would heal my heart in a way that a sexual escapade never could.  Benito's birthday is this month.  I feel like writing him a letter, not an I miss you or can we be friends again letter but a I just want you to know how I feel will never change no matter how much we hate each other letter.  I have a feeling he's going to be moving soon b/c of some circumstances and I fear we'll never be able to reach one another again even if we wanted to.  I don't know I'm probably being dramatic, but when we had our last break he told me he would drive by my house often.  And of course my mind kept asking why didn't you ever come to the door, or write me, or something.  That's just him though.  Anyhow back to the topic at hand.  Intimacy.  Ahh what an illusive concept.  Yet and still I think I'm going to take a moment and write some thoughts defining what it is for me.

When you snore abrasively, I sleep harder
The comfort of your chest will not surrender it's hold
The moment will not allow
For shallowness
So I drown out the sound
You play in my mane
Fingertips dance among young tendrils
I am defenseless
Your hand curves around my lower back
Respectfully resting upon my waist
When you realize you've strayed below
You will your hand to a more congenial post
And we sleep
I rub your stomach which you hate
Exposing all of your insecurities
I know this because I feel the same
When someone rubs mine
Though you and I are merely friends
The closeness I feel when we embrace
Is the purest form of intimacy
Unsoiled by physical conquest
With you I am safe and myself
With you I share myself
With you I know
I am not by myself
In the way that I feel

-for Terrence