Lay with me

April 4, 2010
“Lay with me,” I say,
but its more of a question of will.
All I want is for him to lay next to me.
I want to hear his breath
as it rises and falls from his chest.
I want to feel the rhythmic beating of his heart
next to the pounding drum of mine.
I want to smell his scent,
inhale it like there's no tomorrow.
I do not want to look at him,
for fear that it is all a dream
and that by opening my eyes,
disillusionment will settle down upon me.
The words came mumbled out of my mouth
but the sound resonated throughout the room.
In the few moments
that it took for him to decide
whether he would be there for me
or walk out as expected
felt like hours.
My eyes flutter close
and I let him decide.
I feel a large weight next to me
and the corners of my mouth upturn
ever so slightly.
I scoot over, making room for him next to me
and I almost fall off the bed.
He instinctively wraps a protective arm around my waist
to keep me stable.
After I am secure,
his arm remains on my waist.
His thumb is lightly circling the curve of my body
and it feels so good.
I sigh
and he scoots closer to me,
his breath tickling my neck.
I am content.
All it took
were those three words.
Lay with me.

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