It is three:thirty in the chilly morning and I really should be in bed. Just booted Ian and Ethan out, but I’m missing you like a cross-eyed sniper. Only in that I want to creep into bed next to you. I want you in the bed already, asleep with a book still in your hand. Some interesting favourite of yours that I get to read next or something that I’ve read many times fondly but you’re only beginning to discover. Obviously you couldn’t put it down in spite of being tired. It’s a dark rectangle with your fingers spread on the soft cover, thumb keeping the page. I want to reach past you to gently slip it from underneath, take your hand and look at the page a moment. Let my eyes trace the same words yours did. I’ll place it next to the bed, safe for you to find in the morning. I want to touch your face just a little with my fingertips, gently. Let myself the moment to trace out the arch above your eyes. There isn’t even a flicker on your face until I kiss you on the brow. I’m remembering how it took me almost three days to find you pretty again. To tie the emotions to the body. Smiling, I stand a little to step over you. The music playing is quiet and soft, music for airports, almost unnoticeable. I feel slightly awkward, but I’m not, it’s only slight worry that you will wake and I want to look at you as I slide my feet under the covers. Our warm toes together as I lean over sitting up to flick off the light. I want you to wake up just enough to grab me into you as I lie back down in the fresh darkness. Pulling up the covers, soft curves following the body’s angles, your leg bending over mine. Funny how we fit in the same places in spite of the difference in heights. Years ago, I don’t say but I think, I used to be shorter so what pleasant accident allows us still to fit? You’re obviously happy and a murmur of something I don’t hear as I pull my hair out of the way. A kiss on my neck then you’re back dreaming. I’ll follow soon. I’ll feel your arms wrapped around me, one under the pillow my head rests on and the other snaking around my waist to hold my hand, and I will rest.
now it’s four:thirty
goodnight
