My Don

Before her mind wondered off into sleep, he came into her thoughts…

He looks at me when I’m trying to hide behind my hair and I know no matter how long it grows, his sight will always see farther. When he wakes in the morning his arms automatically reach for me like my body is his alarm clock. That first touch, his first prayer. That first kiss, the first sunray. When I drive us in the night with the city lights bright and the moon big, he’s sitting beside me studying my silhouette as if I  was a star in a constellation. I can feel his satisfaction in the darkness. The curve in his ears, the shape of his neck. Not an inch too small, neither too big. You heard me, I said, perfect. No push and shove. How does he know exactly when I want my hand to be held? Suffication isn’t his specialty. He is my love, and still, my love has given me freedom. Side by side our bodies fit. Just right. Not like a puzzle, but like a pretzel. One into the other. Do people see the symmetry when we’re walking down the street? I can feel it in my heart, regardless. The reflection of my laugh can be seen in the apple of his eyes. I’d rather look at those than 42 rainbows dancing in the sky. Fruition, shine, mine mine mine. In his presence, I’m home. Safety is resting my head on his shoulder. Luckily, I snapped the wishbone. How lonely “Hello” sounds when he misses me. How much I can tell he cares when he speaks with his soft voice. Strong grip, sweet kiss. One look and I can tell, he loves me. How much I’d do to keep it that way. How far he goes just to make me smile. How much I smile just so he knows. He’s doing things. Things that excite me.

Yvonne lay in her bed and tried to imagine a lover that would be good for her. She saw the silhouette of a man next to her thanks to the imagination. He wasn’t real. But he’s real enough, she pondered. Which only made her sad. He smelt like a charm and dashed words at her ego full of promise, poetry and especially big worded bullshit. He would patch together the ravished heart that had been stepped on, pulled and tugged at from all sides by all types of maniacs. He was real, maybe not in real life. But as she finally fell into the dreamland of Sleep, REM reached and prayer done, she started to imagine the one person who was out there waiting for her, like she was waiting for him.

One day…was the last conscious thought before her fantasy and dreams took over.

xoxox

Lindsay Reva