This morning

She clung to me after a morning of tumbling amid sheets, like drops of sweat on heat-drenched skin, the fire not extinguishing but growing after each time, punctuated by dog sounds from the other room that felt like they were miles away. “you know what this is?” She whispered, her arm snaking around my bare chest and holding on for dear life, “i think this is our honeymoon. I’m yours forever, you know”

When we finally broke apart, the linger still remained, and I knew. She was right. She usually was