I can’t say a word; my teeth won’t allow it because of a knotted-up throat. Difficult to let even a swallow down. My glasses fall off the bridge of my nose, and I don’t put them back on, not right away. I like the blurry. I like the feeling of my wrist held in the palm of his hand. The weight of him, gentle and caring. A shiver shuffles between spinal bones. This is enough, I think. This is more than enough for now. Him holding me. It’s enough. For now.
