Ache

I ache for your weight

settled in my lap,

your head on my chest,

home where it belongs.

I ache for the shower,

steam rising like prayer,

your body in my arms,

water blessing every kiss.

I ache for the aftercare,

your back beneath my hands,

fingers soothing the fire,

holding you steady, whole.

I ache for your hunger,

not for scraps of love,

but for the feast we make

in touch, in trust, in us.

I ache for your laughter,

the way it lifts me,

your eyes catching mine,

a flame I never douse.

I ache for your blush,

when “good boy” lingers,

when you know I see you,

and still want more.

I ache for your freedom,

to be wanted, to be full,

to be Sunbeam and beloved,

without apology.

I ache, Torchy to Sunbeam,

not just for your body,

but for the miracle of you,

aching back for me.

© Dereck Pritchard, 2025. All Rights Reserved. Okay to share in full with clear credit to the author. Partial excerpts require written permission.