Overused

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Life finds us pulled in opposite directions.

When I wake up it is a new day, but I’m still trying to pull back the weekend’s sunrises.

Monday’s sun shines in the window, finds my face, slowly brings me to waking and with eyes open, the pillow cradles this mind for longer than it should, while my heart gets a grasp on our priorities.

It is another day of away. Repasser.

I climb from the bed, stretch my hand to my drawer where I pull the phone from its wired recharge, fumble the password, twice, and look for the little blue envelope telling me your words are waiting- slumbering and still sleeping maybe- but here, nested in the palm of my hand.

You are my peace.
You are my tranquil.
We find a center, a balance.
Slide over and wrap that leg over me.
Place your ear on my shoulder close enough to hear my heart beating as yours.
Palm my rib, stroke my chest, cup me,
Breathe me in.

There are so many ways to express the connection, yet repeated I love yous are both inadequate and necessary food for a lover’s daily consumption.

In my stubborn grasp lies wait the possibilities I choose to crave.  I know better than to selfishly cross boundaries but I allow it, this time, because I simply cannot deny myself your beautiful heart.  I love you is nearly enough, but not. We are worth more.

You are here, slide over.

Groggy good mornings whispered hot on my neck before the rising

Just wanted to share this bite of blueberry pie with you

Lie back

Hold my hand in yours, like we do

I want your voice

I want a time when I don’t have to miss you

.

One day at a time is the plan. She pulls his Saturday shirt from the drawer, pulls it over her head drinking in his scent. Thumbs to her waistline, she drops Monday’s panties to her ankles. In one practiced movement she kicks them up to her fingers and slips them under his pillow for Tuesday’s return.  

#for Reticent Mental Property. Images courtesy of the web.

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