Her body was against his body, her breasts were on his back, her leg was over his hip, her arm was around his shoulder, holding him.
"Her hands are my hands,” he thought, “Her feet my feet.”
"See with the eyes of the heart," he learned as a boy, "For then you will truly see.
Hear with the ears of the heart, for then you will truly hear.”
He turned and looked at her in the morning light.
Her eyes were earthy brown and filled with kindness.
Her hair fell around her shoulders.
Her hands were calloused and cracked from work on the land.
Her naked body was a smile, a sonrisa, a sunrise to him.
He held her closely.
He felt her heartbeat.
He knew the tender solicitude of love.
- trevor scott barton, studies in minimalism, 2022
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