We sleep together

and it’s beautiful,

and sweet,

and strangely illicit,

breaking, as we are,

the rules of our own agreement.

She guides me in with soft hands

while I whisper, ‘are you sure?’

‘No,’ she sighs, but doesn’t stop.

Slowly, in stages,

I find myself deeper inside her.

I don’t want to press too hard,

I don’t want it to hurt,

but it’s as though

I can feel every piece of her

through her skin,

and I feel so much at once

I could almost burst.

Our rhythms match

and our lips meet.

My hands seek her out,

roaming her skin

and we come together

as one.