To lie by your side, holding hands beneath the sheets, ready for sleep, Content to breathe in the same air, simply fulfilled to be able to share the warmth of our clothed bodies, head leant towards your cheek. There can be no greater pleasure than to hold you close, my treasure.
This was written in response to the last line of a novel:
“There they lay, fully clothed, boot rubbing boot, nose touching cheek, each seeking no warmer pleasure than the simple knowledge that the other was there and holding him again.” (A Place Called Winter- Patrick Gale)