namastayinbed

“I can let everything go when you touch me.”

I look you in the eyes when i whisper those words.  Reverently I tell you ,“Those words that only have every crossed my lips with you. I swear on every rib in my body that those words have only collected air from my lungs, wrapped around my touge and been heard by your ears. “

“Oh,” you say. on an exhale of breath. your hands warm, starting at my ankle and gently graing between my calves and onto my other leg. “You’re quite the romantic.” you follow up the noise. 

I close my eyes and tilt my head back againt the bed. “Of course I am, can’t you tell?” Iift my hand to fiddle with the hem of my shirt. Your shirt. Oversized but having fallen as high on my thighs as it could have. Then I lift both my hands making a small flutter, dismissive and telling. 

“It’s like humidity” I smirk “clinging to me”. 

“I love when you use similes” you say, sweeping your other hand across your chest, then into your pockets as you leaned againt the wall. 

I roll my eyes and try to make light of the way my chest constricts, you’re wrapped around me. Like romance, like the sickly sweet summer heat, like saddness some days, like the way my sheets smell of you the next day. Heady and masculine.

 “What do you want?”

I laugh and your head turns and something in your eyes flash. Hurt? Humor? I’m too far, your fingers thrum againt my calf musicle. 

“It’s much safer to ask me what I don’t want.” Fisting my hands to keep from reaching out to you. I want to tell you I don’t want you so far away, that I don’t want you to leave, but that doesn’t do us any good at all. At least not yet. I think. 

Got a family? 

“If you love me, you have to love all the things about me”.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner.