Saturday, July 23, 2011

Alone in bed

Though not a melancholy person (by anyone's means) I wrote this peace after a moment of suspension the story literally crossed fully through my mind in less than a second.  And in that second I was this woman:




Alone in bed
So bright.  Too early.  
Aah, sore . . . my hip . . . (Chuckle) last night.  
Just got to reach out; get closer.  
Empty.  
Not for long.  Still warm.  
So tired, where is he.  
Cold floor.

He looks silly in that shirt.  
I want to kiss him when he smiles,
even with that in his mouth.  
Ah, clean breath and teeth.

He doesn't see me,
got him!  
Tackle and tickle, tackle and tickle!  
I love his laugh.

I love you . . .
have I said it out loud?

How long in silence?  
I won't go first.  
Where is he?  
I overreacted, but I will not go first!  
He is coming . . .
will he?  
He wants me to explain it
again?  
He wants to understand?  

I don't like this.  
Yeah, sure, "I look great".  
Changing again . . .
makes me tired.  
Black is better; it hides.  
You can't see it then!  
Why is he looking at me . . .
like that.  
Warm lips . . .
Agh!  
Of course it's not just
your mother . . .
it's you and your mother!  
Side with me.  
No, I'm not ridiculous!  
Listen to me.  
Fine . . .
silence.

I need to say it,
but how?
Mouth dry,
stomach hurts.  
There he is . . . just say it, say it!  
It's just three  words.  
I look like a fish:
open, shut; open, shut.  
got it out . . .
I said it . . .
Oh no, what is he thinking?

What if he doesn't love me?  
Walking towards me . . .
RUN!  
His arms.  
Am I shaking? . . .
His hand is so cold on my face.

I love sun on my face.  
Look at that dog . . .
if you pull back on the reigns he won't jerk you.
Husky . . . so pretty;
distinct.  
Need to remember
to flex my heels
and extend my toes . . .
His hand, so big.  
Mine fits so nicely.

What does that face mean?  
His shoe untied?  
What?  A ring?  
Oh!  I, I didn't think . . .
yes!

The small of my back
was made for his hand.  
1, 2, 3; 1, 2, 3, Ouch!  
Don't look at your toes.  
He is so kind to me . . .

What was that?!  
Ah!  There it was again.  
It's on my foot!
It's on my foot!  
Why is the couch so far away?  
Help!  Help!  It's huge!  
There he is . . . help me.  
So big . . . legs out to there,
it had a tail, fangs!  
Kill it, kill it, kill it!  
(shudder) ehhh . . . it's gone (sigh).  
Please hug me . . .
I don't want to ask.

Sticky floor, eh.  
I hate when the floor is sticky.  
Ew, don't put the candy in the popcorn . . .
no wonder the floors are sticky.  
I don't want to open . . . fine.  
Oh, sticky but tasty . . . ha ha fine;
I concede.  
Love you always . . .
even if now it’s silly to say it.  
Sticky or not.

So tired, long day;
another tomorrow.  
I hate when they’re cold . . .
but he is warm . . .
won't mind if I bury my feet there
and back up against you?
Ahhh . . . his heart beat.
In his arms . . .
warm,
safe,
loved
(sigh . . . yawn).

Too early,
so bright.  
Snooze.  
Reach out.


Empty.  Cold . . .

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