It’s 6 am and it still feels like a dream.
You stir next to me and I have to hold myself back for I’m pulling you closer and devouring every inch of you. Sometimes God takes one thing and offers you a whole lot more, and thankfully, I got that with you.
I turn to my side and gaze at your still body; chest rising and falling; peacefulness in human form.
My fingertips caress your skin and my lips trace their way to your neck, chest... you stir a bit more and I hold myself back. Your eyes open up and stare in surprise. You close your eyes and I count to ten. We’re both so afraid of waking up to different realities and we don’t want to pretend, so we take a few seconds to make sure this is real, all of it, you and me, the bed, the sheets.
1,2,3
It’s not a dream
4,5,6
You’re real
7,8,9
I’m lost in your eyes
10
Whatever self control I was tying to gain disappears and we’re tangled in the sheets, so afraid the spell breaks, we practically lose sight, of all that was once real, and for all that has yet to come.
You go back to sleep and I write this piece, hoping that when one day, very far from now, we part ways, I can read these and cherish the way, you made me feel when all I wanted was to evaporate.
