I wake at 4 in the morning
In the small hours
When small things matter
and ideas can repeat in your brain
taking on more significance than they deserve
eroding your ability to unwind
Like a tap dripping in the next room
But not this morning
This morning it is soft rain I hear
gently tinkling on the metal
of the carport roof outside
It is warm under the covers
I feel secure
as your soft regular breathing resumes
after you roll onto your side next to me
Was it an interrupted dream?
I like not knowing everything that goes on in your head
After all these years you can still surprise me
I snuggle up to your back
and rest my forehead between your shoulder blades
As I contemplate what it is to be us
your heels settle into the angle of my ankles
your calves align with my shins
your thighs mold to mine
and your backside schmoozes deliciously into my groin
I raise my head to create more space
so I can wrap my arms around you
pulling your upper body into mine
As my arms embrace your warmth
I soak up your textures
I draw in your smell
With my eyes closed
I sense every point at which we touch
I feel our body rhythms synchronise
as my muscles relax
and my mind smiles
with the intimate pleasure
of as much body contact as we can muster
I savour the moment
as peaceful sleep reclaims me
So beautiful, Sean.
LikeLike
Thanks Sue, Very nice to have a comment. I appreciate it.
LikeLike
This is such a tender and generous piece of writing Sean. It made my heart sing and my mind hope.
LikeLike