I would lay my ear against his chest and hear the water moving quiet, trickling. On the surface he was glacial, cold, rock hard, impenetrable. But I lay my head there, listening to the rivers running deep.
Let me inside you, into your room
In the night, he’d move and I’d wake, not hearing it - not hearing his heartbeat. But I’d reach out and find him again and place my head back there, falling asleep knowing the rivers were still running. Knowing I would lie with him until the ice melted.
I’ve heard it’s lined with the things you don’t show
Is it obvious yet, that I have an obsession with song lyrics? This is from one of my favourites, Hymn for Her.