'i will not know you til i have watched you sleep' - regie gibson
'good morning'
the new day came soft upon us.
the stillness in his voice competed w/ that of the cold slivers of sun snaking thru the blinds. i was still asleep. i was curled in a little ball, sleeping on my side. i always sleep on my side. i tried not to once after reading an article written by some guy who said that not being able to sleep on one's back is a sign of insecurity.
i thought about that then. i didn't care. whatever security of self lacked, i found in him.
what time is it?
'7:30'
so early.
we'd spent the entire night together, just talking. i told him how nice it was to wake to the sound of his voice. he said nothing, but i heard his smile.
he soon drifted off again. i, unable to fall, laid in silence, listening to him dream. i became his voyeur, watching w/ closed lids as he snored contentedly in my ear. it embarasses him, so i seldom mention it, but i adore it. i have made a religion of him, and in my worship it is easy to forget that though he is in my mind's eye larger than life, he is just the right fit for my bed and arms and world and dreams. his sweet little snores color him just as ordinary as me, though more often than not the end result is me lauding even more. it is beautiful that he thinks enough of me to let me bear witness to his human side.
i lay for an hour or so, listening and watching him sleep. just as i began to drift again, i was drawn back to consciousness by a series of his low moans, growing gradually higher in pitch & wrapped soft in his quickening breaths. i thought once to wake him & delve into whatever dirty little thoughts may have moved him to such song, but i instead quieted my own breathing, closed my eyes & floated away with him to wherever he was.
and so there we were in the middle of nowhere, he led by his subconscious & i led by him. we'd found our way back home by the time he woke again.
'good mornin, baby'
waking to a new sun morning after morning is a wondrous experience,
but id gladly trade it for that phrase dressed in the cool tones of his voice.
it's only sun. i cld learn to live without it.
it pales in comparison to our yr-round summer anyway.
it was 8:30. we layed talking to each other about miles and miles of nothingness. by 9:30 he was moaning again in my left ear and this time i joined him, singing in quieted whispers in his right. i had an orgasm of emotion each time i heard him say he loved me b/t his hurried breaths.
'sex on a sunday,' he laughed as we lay once the composition had ended. blasphemous. i didn't care. hell w/ him wld be no short of heaven.
the morning found us soft and crept slowly away as we fell asleep again together after sayin goodnight in the light of day. i felt him so warm in the small of my back
until we blew kisses
and hung up our phones.
...i am learning to sleep on my back in his absence.
