With racing hearts and dimming lights,
our bodies find the floor like corpses
and we are led to meditation.
A voice tells me to think of a safe place,
something that’s mine
and I instantly feel a warmness in my chest.
She tells us to close our eyes,
slow our breathing,
and find it.
“Remember how it feels,” she guides,
and there’s softly brushing my cheek,
“what it looks like,” she continues,
green eyes flash across the backs of my eyelids,
his voice blankets me again, soft and warm,
his shampoo is still in my hair
I remember the mint of his toothpaste from any other.
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” she whispers,
“just as long as you feel safe there, happy,”
and I certainly do –
the only home I know is in your arms.
I could almost drift off to sleep
from the peace I’ve found
recalling forehead kisses and sleepy afternoons.
I’ve never breathed so lightly, so easily,
I’m so in love with you.