intimacy is the silence between us that isn’t empty. it is sitting in the same room, doing different things, and feeling the tether of your presence like a physical weight against my side. "alone together." the safety of it.

i want the mundane worship.

i want to memorize the history written on your hands.

i want to know exactly how you take your coffee, not because it is important to the world, but because it is the most important data point in mine.

to be loved is to be seen. but to be intimate is to be seen ugly, to be seen tired, to be seen when you are cracking apart, and having someone sit next to you and say, "i am not going anywhere. rest here."

i don’t want to just hold your hand. i want to hold your peace. i want to be the quietest thing you keep.

“Beati coloro che si baceranno sempre al di là delle labbra,

varcando il confine del piacere,

per cibarsi dei sogni…”

Alda Merini