It’s strong, solid, soft and hard.
I hear his heartbeat
the rhythm of my life as well as his
tat tat tatting away
slowing with relaxation and comfort.
His heat envelopes me
just as his arms do.
My heart beats with his.
No, it beats for him.
To hear the beat is a ritual.
One sleeps when one is exhausted
or, more profoundly,
when one is comfortable, safe, secure.
In his arms, my head on his chest
I am profound.