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“We sleep in spooned positions for most of the night, comforting each other, holding on, not desperately, but with the certainty that we are over, recognizing that our love for each other isn't enough. We wake and something I'd forgotten stirred in me. I reach for him. Kiss him and let him kiss me back. Exploring each other with a recognition I know will comfort me later. And then he's inside me and I remember who we are. There is still love and I can dance this liquid dance and let it move me. He stops, pulls himself away from me, taking my breath with him. He lies there and I feel his tears on my flesh. His tears. All this time together and I had no idea he could cry.” — Ellen Marie Francisco
We sleep in spooned positions for most of the night, comforting each other, holding on, not desperately, but with the certainty that we are over, recognizing that our love for each other isn't enough. We wake and something I'd forgotten stirred in me. I reach for him. Kiss him and let him kiss me back. Exploring each other with a recognition I know will comfort me later. And then he's inside me and I remember who we are. There is still love and I can dance this liquid dance and let it move me. He stops, pulls himself away from me, taking my breath with him. He lies there and I feel his tears on my flesh. His tears. All this time together and I had no idea he could cry.