The Ten Minutes After Great Sex

The ten minutes after great sex with someone you love is the single greatest moment in life. There is something about those sweet, damp minutes that resonate a lifetime.

It's the closeness. Laying side-by-side, resting your faces on each other in a synergetic embrace. Separated by exhaustion but holding one another's hand as if rain chased you under the porch and implored you to taste each other's lips for the first time.

It's the purity. Unashamed of the love you have made, the effort you have given. Unabashedly flaccid and reviewing the uttermost personalness of the depths of your soul that you consigned just moments ago. Having given all you can and allowing the quivers to reassure you.

It's the darkness. With no intensity left to rush you, you can gently finger the curves that have been forgotten. Discovering, through touch in blackness, the beauty that may have been negotiated by light. You can breathe each other and fantasize that you are anywhere in the world, from a beach-front villa in Spain to an ancient castle in Scotland, absorbed and inspired by the journey as the breeze pours over your skin.

It's the finality. You can slowly puff down, relent the charm and just be, with nothing more to earn and no one left to impress. It's the time where you forget that work is six hours away and laugh about the madness of it all. It's the granulate of eternity where you aren't too fat or too tall. You fit just right, and perhaps it's the only time you ever do.

It's the only time I can ever truly feel normal. Out of the scope and accepted, in a cocoon of soft pillows and softer flesh, infinitely justified as me.