Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to sleep with you.
Not sex, though that certainly would be momentous, unforgettable, and magical, but rather a sensual embrace, one that attempts to fully express a physical manifestation of my affection towards you, however short it might fall from my internal ideals. A period of time where you would lay your head on my chest, and I would stroke your hair in idle contentment, satisfied with the utter ”Oneness” of the moment, disregarding all past and possible romantic discordance for the simplistic joy of the ”Now” we share.
Sometimes, you are a psychological pillow without ever being aware of it.


