i have played this scene so many times
back and forth; it feels nostalgic like a memory.
i am lying next to you,
legs tangled up,
running your hand through my messy hair
using your chest as a pillow
your breathing is some tired syncopation and your heartbeat is an alarm clock,
it is lazy-
whatever happened before is over
it has become quiet
no shirt, blankets in a ball at the end of the bed
maybe i was crying, maybe we were having ***, maybe you yelled and i got defensive, maybe it was nothing at all
it is still,
we say sorry without speaking,
it is understood and we come to agreements
we fall asleep and wake up and whatever happened before is over.
it plays in my head so often
it feels like i am recalling your smile
domestic moments,
some moments where you are here after it is over.
some painful, fake, imaginary memories where you stay,
you stay, you stay.