Warm night and Warmer morning

Crash at my place. Just for tonight.
It’s okay. Don’t worry.
It’s cold and rainy and I don’t care what history is between us
But I will not force you to walk home in that rain
I will not let icy drops pelt your soft skin (the softest that I’ve ever known)
And you say no, no, you couldn’t

But at 5AM I get that call and you do
And you crash and you steal the covers and you hog the bed and you squish me up against the wall
And I don’t care because it’s warm and your hand is on my waist and it’s warm
We fit together well. My back against your chest and I can feel the steady thump thump of your heartbeat.
Our legs intertwined and my feet are cold but you don’t move yours away

And then your arm sneaks under my head and I use it as a pillow because you steal all of my pillows
And your hand is still on my waist
And it’s warm
I can feel you all around me, your breath on my neck, your head against mine, your smell in my nose
And it’s warm and I never want you to leave

The sun shines through the windows, and I curse because it’s too damn early to be awake on a weekend morning
But you grumble and rub your hand along my side. It’s warm.

And the next thing I know, we’re kissing. They’re hesitant, soft and slow, at first, but then faster and more. And what are we doing what are you thinking why am I letting you because I. am. not. her.
But you keep going. More kisses. More touches. It’s hot. Clothes are off. Skin is as close as can be. Hands are everywhere. Names are whispered. It’s hot. So hot. Hot as hell, which is straight where I’m going.

And then it’s over as soon as it began. And then it’s regret. So much regret. Not on your part, no, but on mine. Because how could I let you do this to me. Because I am not her. And you’re asleep next to me. And it’s warm.

But this warmth is not for me. I am not her. But while it lasts, it’s warm.


About periwinklenightshade

I am a university student who looks at the sky and speaks the first sentence that comes to her head - and each sentence is then the inspiration for writing. I have always wanted to be writer, and I hope my poetry prose will touch the hearts of my readers. And I hope that my activism speeches will bring out the fighting spirits of everyone who sees them. View all posts by periwinklenightshade

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