:::by jill:::

something like the heat and sweat of him overtakes me at midnight. i can smell him, his breath, his skin, everytime night comes and light disappears and silence abounds. his torso melding into my back, our legs bent and pressed together, his hands in my hair.

only at midnight can i feel him. only at this absolute hour of the night does he fill my pores, excite my senses, undo my understanding of reality:

which is --

he is not, in fact in my bed, but miles away, in his. there is no skin pressed to mine, no fingers tangled in my hair, no scent but what lingers of him on my pillows and sheets.

but i am blissfully unaware. we share a bed, a skin, the rhythm of breath, each night.

i twist the sheets between my calves, smile in my sleep, and try not to awaken to my clock eternally flashing 12:00, 12:00, 12:00, 12:00......

<< 2002-10-02 @ 12:25 a.m. >>

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