Only Under Your Sheets

by Sine Qua Non

the grayness of the morning and the cool drizzle conjures in me an excruciating desire to reach for that patch of your back hidden beneath your hair and run my fingers down to trace the line of your spine and find that crevice of your waist where my palm will rest and wait for your fingers to come and converge with mine

but you do not rest under these sheets with me

i have to be the one to go to you and place myself precisely at the curve of embrace your body opens for me on your bed

inside where you are, we exist to each other like comforts we cannot let go of, in this distance we are waiting for the other to express their longing hoping that one is not rejected, hoping for another night we chase to the break of dawn

we wake up in a tangle of each other, our limbs reach for the other in sleep, and in our minds we convince ourselves that we do not consciously do it

the hour, the liquor, the sensation of being longed for conjures in me the painful kind of desire for that moment when you tuck your face into my nape breathing me in, brushing against the tiniest of hairs, making every grain of me tremble as my pores awake and you clutch at my hips and pull me towards you, stare into my soul, almost certain to never let me go, pull me tighter, own me, no words, no certainty, almost true, maybe

maybe next time, i should not let you go, i should not let go

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