St. Elmo’s Fire

You shift in your sleep, your knee moving to rest against my thigh.  I stiffen as you exhale and tuck your head beneath the crook of my neck.  I tentatively inhale, your hair tickling my nose.  I’m enveloped in your scent as I lie here, awake in your bed.  Acoustic rock had lulled us to sleep, and later, had woken us up.  You must’ve turned it off at some point.

I want to roll over, but I’m afraid to move.  More than that, I’m afraid you’ll move away.  I would prefer to remain close to you, but I’m still unsure if that’s where you want me to be.  I’m also unsure if I would be crossing a boundary if I got closer.

You roll over, turning away from my neck.  I roll over to face the wall.  Your leg, however, finds mine again.

© 2016 Vic Romero

 

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