I want to snuggle with you. I’d like to lie on you and put my head on your shoulder and breathe in the same rhythm that you’re breathing. I want to use one of my hands to rub your head, down to your neck, then to your arm, and then hold your hand. I’d like to rest my other hand on your hipbone, which is my favorite part of your body because it’s a straight and bony hip, nothing like my curvy, soft one.

I’d like you to play with my hair. Don’t pat my head with a flat hand, put your fingers under my hair, on my scalp, and then run them through my hair like it’s a waterfall. Wrap both of your arms around me and give me a long, tight squeeze, the kind where in the last second, I need to inhale but I can’t. Then I’d like you to close your eyes, so I can prop myself over your face and study your features freely without you looking back at me. I want to kiss your jaw line, fondle your earlobes, sweep my cheek against yours. I want to stroke the slope of your nose and your eyelids and admire your eyelashes.

I’d like you to run your thumb over my lips. Cup my face with both of your hands. And I want you to kiss me. This will be a kiss that liquefies from light to deep and then back to light. A seemingly endless kiss that doesn’t lead to anything else. It doesn’t need to. We’ll share it simply to feel the warmth that it brings on its own. Then I want you to roll me over. Lie on top of me and hold our arms over our heads so that I can feel all of your weight, strong and heavy and masculine.

I want you to start at the beginning and do it again.