Cuddling

We don't need to fill our time
between the sheets
with pillow talk
and kinky quips

We'd rather enjoy the presence
of another warm body,
our head against their heart
taking comfort
in the soothing sound
of their steady snare drum

The rhythmic reply
to our own pounding pulse,
the mesmerising music
of a living breathing metronome

We mold our form
to meet their figure
matching the rise and fall
of a chest we've come to cherish

Our arms plastered
across their back
clinging for comfort
like newly pasted wallpaper,
not likely to peel

Closer to love than lust,
a mutual message,
of 'We are not alone!'
a place, for the present
that we can call home.