So soft, this moment.

Your skin is satin in the daybreak,

and dust floats, in currents of our breath, amid the aura.

My fingertips glide down your arm,

along your collarbone,

to the small of your back,

and your skin responds in goosebumps:

little mountains and crevices,

as if your body contains more–

something powerful, glorious, terrifying.

A nuclear winter.

Then your skin smooths

and you say something in your slumber,

reaching for me.

In this still embrace we pause,

baring our scars, vulnerabilities, weaknesses.

And soon we will return to our armor

for more fighting the world,

knowing the power of our own secret sanctuary.

-gj