Somewhere, there is a bed.

In the bed is you. Next to you, is me. And in this bed, I want.

I want to slip between the sheets with you. Ease into cool, crispness in the dark. I want to lay there and hear you breathe with me. Inhale. Exhale. Together.

I want to rest my head on your chest. Hear the beat of your heart like a drum in my ear. My hand at rest in the crook of your neck as I sense your body alive beneath it.

I want to trace your jawline with my fingers, rest my thumb in that place on your chin, run my fingers through your hair. I want to feel you.

I want to rise and fall in fervor with you and forget where I end and you begin.

I want to feel your arms encircle me, holding me safe in their embrace, making the great big world a little bit smaller, a little bit warmer, a little bit softer.

I want to feel the heat of your lips touch the top of my forehead as you kiss me good night and the warmth of your palm against my cheek as you brush the hair from my eyes at dawn.

I want to lay with you in the yellow streaks of morning light, on fire from the glow of the sun on my back and my heart on your heart.

Awoken and full, I want to leave the bed, with you. But only for the day. For night will come again. And the bed waits. And I want.

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Author: Michelle Sweezey

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: flickr