I remember in the beginning
A dream:
I was at an airport restaurant with my love and couldn't keep my hands off him. No ravenous make out attack. Just hands on...a need to feel physical warmth and connection.  I feel it in my chest as I write. I've always, always felt the closest and most connected through touch.  My heart on my skin.
And now,
he sleeps on top of the blankets
a strike without contact.