it always feels
like the
end of the world
when you look
away from me
to look over
at her.

fingertips press
against my skin.
they are calloused
and gentle and
slow moving as if
they are trying
to engrave
the outline of me
into their mind
forever.
trails of heat
are left in their wake,
lines of fire
beginning to spark.
the dim sunlight
of morning
casts between the slots
of the broken blinds,
falling on us.
one ray of light
falls over the side
of your face,
over one eye.
the brown looks
like it is glowing,
specks of dark
surrounding your iris
to the depths
of your pupil.
your eyes —
one glowing
and one hidden
by the shadows —
are fixated on me.
my gaze feels frozen
as it settles onto you
and i don't understand
how you can have the power
to make me feel
both frozen
and inflamed
all at once.
my breath catches
in my throat
as i wonder
what i did
to become so lucky
to be in
this spot
next to you.
as we wake up
and lay here in silence,
waiting for one
to break and make
the first move
to start the day.
but i would be
perfectly okay
laying here
forever
but i know
we have to leave
and i will spend my day
thinking about
being in this exact spot
until it comes again.