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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted (edited)

Another 3 AM, and as usual, I sit awake.

I long to lie in your arms listening.

You never knew did you?

Of all those 3 AMs with you, few found me sleeping,

But my troubles faded to nothing with the sound of your body.

 

Oh, how I miss the smell of you.

Just to breathe you in, to feel you flood my lungs,

To taste the echo of your goodnight kiss on my lips.

There is no place I would rather lie awake

Than within the envelope of your body heat.

 

As I sit here, alone, I can see the silhouette of your body

Partially hidden by a loosely draped sheet.

Every shadowed feature of your face, every tangle of your hair

Etched forever in my mind

To see again and again in the lonely hours before the dawn.

 

I ache to feel the sweaty hotspots of your skin

Pressed to mine, unmoving for hours.

To start to drift into sleep and be awakened

By the reflexive twitching of your fingers

As you move through each new dream.

 

My bed is a solemn and sorry substitute for yours.

My pillow doesn't cradle my head

The way the hollow below your collar bone does.

One heartbeat does not dance in chaotic rhythm

As yours and mine together do.

 

I sit here, avoiding my lonely bed and I wonder,

Do your twitching fingers dance around

In search of my body as you dream?

I would gladly slide beneath them

Even if only for this 3 AM.

Edited by Illianna Wolfsong
Posted

welcome in a big way. That's eloquent and evocative of the security found sleeping by another.

 

I hope to see more of your works.

 

-Peredhil

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