Monday, June 13, 2011
I am glad my slumber was shattered for I am now acutely aware how many hours there are left until you leave. Our time is so short. Juliet's plaintive cry over the coming of the morning sounds in my head, and like her, there is nothing I can do to slow the clock. All I can do is savor this sliver of time.
Your body is curled into mine, both hands rest of my stomach and I hold each in my own. Our fingers curled together in a delicate balance, much like our legs. Your breath betrays how deep you slumber; respirations slow and even. With each exhalation your sweet scent wafts over me, and it is intoxicating. I wish I could hold on to it, so I try to memorize it every time it comes. It is so soft, like the fuzz of a chick, yet so overwhelmingly male that I am suddenly aware of just how manly your entire being is.
The bulge of your arm is soft now that your arm is at rest, but I know it can carry out all the work you must do. The broadness of your chest, that I know holds a tender heart that few have a chance to see, extends around to your back, that I know is strong enough to carry the world. Tiny blades of stubble cover your perfect face; lashes closed in prayer.
I lay perfectly still in this moment, for fear of waking you and losing it forever. For as much as I long to see your eyes looking back at me, I know when they do, it will be to take their last look before our separation. So I instead I lay, basking in the heat your body is radiating out and fighting off the return of my slumber. Slumber will steal the few precious hours we have left. Whisk them away into nothingness. Obliterate the last moments of happiness I will get to enjoy of you. I try to hard, but fight it as I may, finally my perfect moment is stolen away, gone with the blink of my eyes.