Resting Here with Me

 Slow down your day...slow down your breathing.

Please...do not hurry away.  Please do not leave.

Please stay.

The opening of a morning with a creamy yellow sky and a rise of warmth against a window pane.

Awake in a morning with white pillows and covers, coverlets...alone in the ecstasy of memories of you in between...these sheets, these skin upon skin moments...please do not extract...please do not withdrawal.

Let my fingers graze yours.

Let my gaze linger.

Let the world become smaller, a room, a bed...a universe of entanglement that is deliciously small. The length of you astride a length of me.

There is a world outside that waits to pounce...it brings worries...stress, bills to pay, a few things to pick up at the market.

A key into an ignition to carry you away.

A gentle pull upon your wrist to pin you gently to the surface tension of a bed...a sheet.

I count the countdown of your mind to the minutes that you are counting down.

The streets fill with cars and noise, the crumple of traffic that allows strangers to wallow in silence and head towards drudgery...to wallow in sameness...the same damn thing every day...every hour.  To hit repeat again and again.

The sun will arc and create shadows...the light in the room will glaze over and become discreet...our presence in a shadow feels familiar...we recognize our outlines...our shapes.

Order us some drinks.

Let us partake.

Whatever it takes to alleviate the slight stress of the day...let it spill out amongst us.

The sun slices between limbs and leaves...it spills and scatters...it signals an end.  A day gone.  Mostly.

But damn the peace in our bodies...like matchsticks they connect and conjure.  Ignite.

The day blurs into a gray and eventually a black and all we do is find the sun in each of each other and yearn for the return of something warm and something we can wrap ourselves into...and it is warm.

It is warm.  We.