Small Intimacies

Sunday, November 16, 2008 

He asks me what I am thinking when I get so quiet – believing perhaps that I have gotten mired again in thoughts of his mortality or that I am silently bitching at Creator to have found something so spectacular yet so impermanent. I have certainly done those things. But this time when he asks, I am collecting a small moment, allowing myself to experience the totality of it and find the kernel of joy at its heart. I am thinking about the comforting feel of your breath on me. Breaths that in the silence I sometimes count. The slow inhalations. The exhalations. Breaths where i find peace. I am thinking about the safe place of your shoulder that cradles my head and for a moment I can let go the weight of it and float free. I am thinking about the sound of your laughter, the sound of mine, the sound of them rising co-mingling. I am thinking about the silken flow of your hair away from the nape of your neck that stills the restlessness of my fingers. I am thinking about the line of your legs and how that intrigues my eyes no matter how many times i see it. I am thinking about your ability to live a life of courage and laughter.  I am thinking about the fullness of your lower lip that invites me to taste it. I am thinking about the soft potent connection requiring no words, no actions, only being. I am thinking about convoluted conversations of particle accelerators, political creed, ancestral spirits and possible outcomes. These sweet small intimacies. are a thousand joy nuts that I have stashed against the promise of empty seasons without you.