In the wee small hours

I wake at some point, plagued by dreams filled with strangeness.

I reach to my left, to find him tucked there in the sheets. Full of heat and perspiration, I wonder if he is living that nightmare over again.

We toss and turn, in turn waking throughout the night. Pulling close when we notice we’ve drifted apart.

These nights are sleeping different than the days. The bed is the same, the sheets as soft and familiar as they’ve been; still, the time changing has affected us.

I will lay in bed naked, and early, to be beside him again this evening. I will be there when he slides up against me, so I can feel him, breathe him in.

talk to me

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