Sometimes, when waking up doesn't feel quite the same, I lay with my eyes closed, waiting for the dreams to come back. I want more and more. I linger in bed, hoping that I'll feel it again. Friday, I felt as though a hole in the middle of the bed beneath my belly had fallen and I was drifting down like a feather from the ceiling onto you. You embraced me the whole way around and I rested my cheek on your chest. We sat upright with my legs around your hips and legs. I was engulfed in comfort that I haven't felt in months. I was woken up but the feeling remained. Like a ghost, I felt your body where it once had been. Saturday, I drifted in and out, with the intention of finding you again. I laid on my left side and I felt as though I was leaning into you. Your left arm around my back, smiling as I stretched my neck to kiss the side of your chin. It was a dream, but it left my body feeling warm and content. That night, I slipped from reality into a dream world and I tasted stale cigarettes out the door and into the next. I recalled thinking, I forgot they even existed. Your world is so far removed from mine that I cannot even fathom smoke any longer. This morning I felt your arm on my back as I tried to turn off the alarm. I felt as though it slipped down my side the farther I stretched to reach the nightstand. It got lighter and softer the more I stretched. I smelled rich honey. Smooth and deep. I returned to my pillow and rested my opposite cheek. I smelled you. I wondered absently about the power of someone's scent. You smell familiar. Like someone from my past. It ignited a glow inside of me and I forgot what it smelled like just as fast.
Comments
Post a Comment