Jul 14, 2004 10:18
You may have seen this before - I wrote it one afternoon, not in a story, but simply because I was overtired and wanted to fall into a deep peace. Thinking about what to write for this section, I realized that I had already written exactly what I wanted to say.
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We lie on the bed, his soupspoon cradling my teaspoon. I reach up with my left hand and pull the length of my hair under my neck in one thick hank, smoothing it from part to ends as I go, so the little wisps don't get in his mouth. The soles of my feet,skin crusty around the edges, rest on his thighs. My ass settles companionably over his crotch. My torso is at an angle - from above, I look acrobatic, crouched and ready to leap. As if to forestall this, his arm slides around my side, over my waist and up to rest with his hand splayed over my chest, pledging allegiance. He tugs once, anchoring me, and when I shuffle my feet and fidget against him, he says, "Shhh. Just rest. I'll stay right here. I'll wake you when it's time."
And I do. And he does.