You Are My Refuge

You Are My Refuge
by Bryon Slack

I know your shape
without looking,
I could trace
your outline
with my fingertips
in the dark.

The soft curve of you
settles into my palms
like you were made
from the memory
of my wanting,
my fingers wrap
around you
with all the grace
of long practice.

My thumbs find
the tender places first,
worn smooth
by need and repetition,
circling familiar pressure
into response,
a squeak escapes you.

You tremble for me
in the quiet,
a pulse against my skin
when the world beyond us
breaks open.

I have held you
through long nights,
through hunger,
through silence,
through every small defeat
I refused to call surrender.

Even now,
when the room goes blue
and my hands remember
what my mouth
will not confess,

I love you.

But you’re starting
to get some stick drift.

Feedback:

Lucky Bastard, Lucky Indeed

My Beautiful Sun