This lazy Sunday afternoon made for the right time to come together again, for making the time to touch and to be; to lay unwashed with the smell of each other. They embraced with the innocent need to be held and touched and yet with the strong confidence in the power of their solidity. He almost moulded into the sheet, in to her hair as if he was born to be there. The heaviness of her hips felt comfortable to her as she held the weight of his head in her arms. His breath felt warm and slightly moist in her ear. It reminded her of when her mother would whisper lullaby’s in the middle of the night when she’d woken from a bad dream. To him, her hair smelt soft and natural, not like the fruits of the shampoo she washed with, and it was warm against his face; he was so close that he had to shut his eyes. He missed her all week when they didn’t have the time to lay like this. This was his chance to know her again.
She loved to feel his naked body and to realise that they could be so close, know each other so well and yet remain as two separate people. She’d run his hand over his back and feel how the skin changed as she moved it downwards: taut over his muscular shoulders, firm over his back, soft and colder over his bum. She was intrigued by how his body had changed over the time they had been together. The hair on his chest covered more now being thicker and longer and she liked to grip it gently in between the lengths of her fingers. She knew time would bring more changes and she longed to know what each of these would be.
They would ignore the washing-up for today and eat only when they were hungry. Today was a day simply for being.
Photo of painting taken from “1001 Paintings You Must See Before You Die” 2007 reprinted edition by Cassell Illustrated.