My husband’s skin is kind of magical. It’s not a sex thing, exactly. It’s not even a familiarity thing, because I’ve felt that about him before we were even officially dating. It feels like home. When I have contact with his skin, there’s a small spiritual confirmation that this is my partner. Long before we made the very grown-up decision to get married, I think the knowledge of our life long love was already in my sensory hairs.
Pearl has that too. She was asleep in my lap, just finished her early-morning feeding, and I got that same feeling. Like beyond the cognitive knowledge that she is my baby, my arms and hands whisper that this child is forever set apart from all others because this child is my daughter. This one has my eyes, she has my blood, she is sustained by my body. This one has my partner’s magic skin.
