Cradling Me

Sarah Doughty

“My love, even now, when you cradle
my face in your hands, I need to kiss you
more than I need air.”

It was that playlist. You remember the one. I shuffled them to play in a certain order. A slow increase in intensity. The beat moving faster in a crescendo that wouldn’t be difficult to follow no matter what we were doing. And then the ending, where the beat slowed to a crawl. The afterglow, as you once called it. I remember dancing with you in your bedroom that summer and we laughed as our bare feet landed on each other’s toes. Perhaps it was that I didn’t know how to let you lead the dance. Or maybe we were both terrible at it. But we never seemed to mind. Especially when you rested your palm against my cheek, letting your fingers slide through my hair at the back…

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