When I was sure she was asleep I
slithered my way out of the sheets
like the snake I am.
I stood and gazed upon her
as she dozed apparently
safe and sound.

When I was dressed I stepped
into the hall and flicked the
light switch.

Gathering my toothbrush and
things, I turned and went back
to the bedroom, where she
was sitting up straight and
just staring at me as I
entered.

I hesitated when I met her
eyes, seeing the questions
she was unable to hide.

But she didn't say a word,
just arched her brows and
watched me.
I felt her vision track my
movements as I went and
packed undergarments.

When I was wearing my
bags and ready to leave
I hesitated in the doorway.
She hadn't moved, but when
I looked back she said to me:
Turn the lights out before you go.

Meeting her sight was
like being alight with
emotional fire.

So I hit the switch as
I tromped down the
steps,
and ventured out onto
the front porch and into
the dark.