Magpie to the Morning

I whispered his name, walking my fingers over his bare white chest. He

lurched away from me, jarred from sleep by spider-like fingers running across his skin when he should have been alone, asleep until noon… It was only a split second, the briefest moment, before his face clicked with recognition of my own. A blink.

He smiled warmly, sleep still clinging to his features.

“Hey.” His body relaxed, moving imperceptibly closer to where I stood. I smiled at him, feeling a kind of dizziness. Our fingers were intertwined, though I had no idea when our hands came together.

“Hi,” I said, wanting to be sleepy again, to be warm and quiet and still. There was a space for me in his bed, the alcove between him and the wall, my niche in his life.“I’m gonna go. I just wanted to let you know… So I wasn’t sneaking out on you.” As with our hands, our lips found their way to each other without effort.

“I have to go,” I breathed, trying to make clear that I wanted to stay. He could pull me down beside him, and I too could get lost in the sleepy dim light of his room…

“Okay.”

I had meant to sweep from the room, possessions in hand, closure intact, but suddenly my things were everywhere. How had so much of me found its way into this strange room? I forced a suede heel into my too-large purse.

“This was fun,” he said flatly. I winced.

“Yeah,” I said, surveying the room for lost objects, my unencumbered ease gone. When I had collected my things, I tried to ease the door open for my escape. It was a laborious process, full of strange maneuvers of objects and my body.

I allowed my self a last glance as I finally slipped through the door, hoping to freeze his face in my mind. He had rolled over, running to sleep, completely unaware as I disappeared into the morning light.

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