a monday morning 3:37am
I awakened as the sun rose. In your embrace beneath olive sheets. Your room was cold but the heat from your bare chest and arms as well as my own kept us still. There was never a single sound emitted from him when he slept.
If you didn't know any better, it would appear as if he weren't alive. But every now and then his hands would tighten their hold on whatever he had in between his fingers. Be it a waist, a protruding hip bone or another hand.
From beneath your eyelids, movement. Maybe you dreamt of me or yourself. Maybe yourself with me. Over his high cheeks laid sharp shadows. In the shade of the night sky. They each appeared to hang stars from their tips.
And in between bold brows a vast expanse of silk that lead to a slope and cliff. Reaching out with nimble fingers I stand at the point. Nostrils scrunch and air flows out of you.
Stopping to realize how closed up my throat had ended up. Too afraid at moving just the slightest bit hoping I wouldn't wake you from the wonders of being dead yet still beating.
It was all a waste of effort. For your sights had landed upon me. In deep swirls of black speckled with the reflection of my face. It strangely made me feel scrutinized in the prettiest of ways.
Slowly, cut open with hands covered in soft wool. Vulnerable yet preening. The movement of you embracing me into your chest made it all that more beautiful.
"mercury."
His voice was faint thunder throughout the once silent room. A loud flash and boom. It kind of snaps you out of whatever daze you held close. Though it could just be that way for only me. To me, he is the pivotal piece of life. Anything he does is of utmost impeccability.
Yet at times. I can never truly understand certain sentences or expressions. He on the other hand perceived every millimeter of skin on my face.
"they look like the planet, mercury. shiny, sparkly, gorgeous."
Staring straight through me, and onto the mirror he could see himself in. I realized he had been speaking of the eyes that were engraved into my visage.
In the most simple of explanations, where my heart claimed it's home, a song full of jazzy piano and velvet bass erupted.
Lazily stretching out the edges of his mouth. Softly throwing his head back into the pillow. He gushes with glitter and liquid gold. Happiness stored away into every cell and nerve of his body.
What a stunning thing to wake up to.
The day was exhausted to the voice of doris day. She sung of every emotion felt with him. In the kitchen, couch, and under his body. All compared to sick intense love.
If infects you to the deepest degree. Has you swaying on your toes and tossing yourself into open arms. Brings up the desire of marrying the very person that sits in the middle of your soul. Lets them in and traps them within the pink restraints of affection.
With the sun falling deeper into the sky. Our bodies intertwined beneath clean sheets, that only has remnants of our soft spoken words and caresses of skin. A thumb pressed to the thin skin beneath his eyes. Circling the edge of his lashes.
His stare is always intense. Passionate.
Everything he does is full of intent. From the way he looks at me to the words that press themselves into the juncture of my neck. He is kind.
Soon, moonlight begins to seep through sheer curtain. Kissing the very tip of his nose. Home softly sings from the fifteen minutes it takes to get there. She long's for me.
He took notice of it. Held on just a bit tighter, taking in the last seconds of touch. Hands grazing over love handles down to the faint dimples engraved into a low waist.
He sends me ahead, with a gentle push and press of lips to my cheek. It was humid and warm out. But I loved how the day seemed to stick to my skin. As if it were something worth remembering.
He was there a second later. A cotton bag hugging something with sharp edges in his hands. Unable to confirm the curious swirls of thought he took me home.
He stops at the same place each time. Five inches away from the curb and exactly twenty three steps from my front door.
A kiss to his lips and the side of his face. He leaves the warmth and his seat. Steps echoing as they round headlights. A warm smile greeting me once more after opening the door separating us.
His hand is held open, inviting. Fitting right into the crevices of my own. The cotton bag hung from his fingers.
"Take this."
The material was soft and thin. Contrasting well with the light color of nail polish.
He only left once his face glowed pink along with his mouth.
And the bag had been opened beneath soft starlight. The exact moon printed onto a page of a book. A rectangular hard cover encyclopedia stretching itself over my lap. It's navy color almost blending into darkness.
A bright pink note had stuck itself out proudly. Right in the midst of thick paper. She had spread open to reveal a pretty sphere dotted with blues and lights, Mercury.
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