(no subject)
I found these the other day. I wrote them about a year ago. They still hold true. Probably more than they did when I wrote them.
Colorful
While my girl was sleeping the other night, I snuck a peek inside her head.
It was colorful and beautiful and I wondered how she kept the bad
things out. But when I asked she looked at me and said "You didn't
again, didn't you? You sneaky fuck." When I confessed she kissed my
forehead and told me that fridge magnets attract more than just other magnets.
The next one is pretty awful, just a warning.
Summer Walk
She’s asleep, so I slip my hand into hers with all the delicacy in the world. Watching her sleep has become one of my favorite occupations. She’s so peaceful and I can almost see the bright, colorful thoughts spinning through her mind, with a speed that only she and I can comprehend. Her breathing changes and I know she’s awake now. I kiss her forehead softly, and she smiles, her eyes still closed.
I ask if she slept well and her response is typical
“I was sleeping with you, wasn’t I?”
so I laugh and kiss her lips, convinced that this is where I am supposed to be.
When she opens her eyes, my heart stops and if this isn’t fate, then I don’t know what is. She rolls onto her side to look at me better and kisses me back. Harder. I remind her that we haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, and she grins and shoots me down with “who needs breakfast?” But there’s no way I can disagree with her hands sliding so smoothly over me and her lips on my neck.
Thirty minutes turns into two hours and we are exhausted. We fall asleep again, her calm body resting in my arms, and when we wake the light outside is waning and warm wind meanders through the window over our bodies, enticing us to move outside. So we dress and eat and, holding hands once more, walk out the back door. The stars are out, but the sun is fighting its bedtime, illuminating the clouds into a glorious purple that both of us are completely stunned by.
“Bailey!” I turn to face you and smile at the look of incredulity on her face. I ask what’s wrong and you’re stunned that I don’t know, “YOU’RE WEARING SHOES!” Oh my goodness, you’re so right, miss Hayley. I remove my shoes and put them on our porch, and she grabs my hand again and walks with me. The ground clutches our feet and the grass wiggles through our toes.
The smell of summer is intoxicating, and mixed with the scent of her standing next to me, I’m surprised I can even stand. We walk and walk in complete silence (unusual for us…), and then lie down next to each other to look for shooting stars. But we get so distracted - lips, tongues, hands, and bare legs are just too tempting. I think it’s okay, though. The moon smiles down at us, and I fleetingly wonder if we’ll make it back by morning, but that thought is crushed by a larger, more important one: who cares?