A Massage of Love

A Massage of Love

For Anne, the medium is the massage,

leaving a message of love.

My hands know what your voice cannot shape:

gentle circles carved into the nape

where pain sits heavy, and hope is feather-light.

The pads of my thumbs learn the language

of the body, the subtle sighs, the way

you tilt your head, invitation and release.

I press down, slow, gentle as snow

gathering in the winter hush of this living room.

You moan, the syllable pure –

“That feels so good” – and it travels

like a river through you, a message rippling

through blood, bone, memory.

Here, at the edge of words,

touch is language; love is a hush.

You close your eyes, let the ache unravel,

and in each sigh, I hear your living body

answering my hands, my heart, my love.

If you feel like keeping track of Anne’s journey, I’m chronicling it here:

https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/news/