A gaze, when returned, can be wonderful thing. There is curiosity involved, questions and answers sought. It wanders over what you wear, half translating the cover, a language you choose to speak. A gaze is comfortably distant, yet strangely intimate, eyes do a lot of talking you know. Hold the gaze, and you hold the person.
Have you shared a drink before? We often do not look much into it, yet we do not share it with people we do not know. Their lips touch what yours have. Their lips taste what yours have. It’s a permission to be a fellow human, an allowance of trust. Fingers grasping what yours have, the acknowledgment more stark when intentions exist. And the moment ever so beautiful when the intentions are mutual.
Share your bed, the blanket, the warmth. Shedding layers with conversations doesn’t get more real, as the two of us understand what we are, the way we are. And it’s perfectly alright, because the biases are gone, long forgotten. They exist for the outside world, not for someone you long to be wrapped around, and squeezed. Share your bed, it’s your space and not everyone’s feet look as pink in the sheets.
Affection is a funny little thing. No matter what we have grown into, it allows us to be silly with full abandon.