You are asleep and I am awake at the most inconvenient of times. Then again, you slept while I stayed, held still by the overwhelming sense of you crashing into my world. Your breaths rattled me, and I shivered with a heady mix of fright and anger and bliss. I could taste your words slipping free from my diaphragm, forming perfect chords in the air. You told me to remember, to think of how it felt to sing from the stomach.
We kissed volcanoes while
you slept, hands held tight,
knuckles turned white,
the fear so alive,
you soaked the pillow as you cried.
The sunlight was a welcome sight. I felt time crawl along my skin, into the heated lines of the covers you pulled over your eyes to keep out the light. I stayed prostrate on the floor, electricity still coursing through me. The sound of your taste told me things will be just fine, but I crawled into bed with you anyways. You awoke with a start, and looked me in the eye.