Lying in our dark bedroom,
I listen to your steady breath
As we lay back to back
Bodies kissing
Molding perfectly into one another.
Home is 600 square feet,
Our tiny kingdom
Full of laughter and inside jokes
Alongside arguments and tears,
Where we breathe the same air.
Our tiny bubble, that I never want to pop.
I trace your face with my fingers
Over and over and over again
So I’ll never forget it when I leave you.
***
Home became someone new
Someone steady and hard working
With rough hands
And a rougher past.
His blue-gray eyes stare longingly into mine
As he tells me “you are whole”.
I fill the void in his life
The cavernous hole of instability
With steady love and cookies from scratch
Living in the kitchen
That he designed for me
Before he even knew me.
Where I stand over the stove every night
Imbuing my love into every meal
Filling his belly and his heart.
Home is the crowded bed full of intersecting limbs
Twisted blankets and snuggled pups
Everyone snoring while I lay awake
Thinking about the crack in our foundation
That my love will never be enough
To fill the aching void inside of him.
***
Now my home lies in your brown eyes
A rich brown, as warm as you.
Your broad face. Your broader shoulders.
Home is your strong arms, which hold me close
As you kiss me and tickle me with your soft mustache.
Home is your arms wrapping around me as you sleep
Reaching for me even as you dream.
I move, then you move
Our bodies intertwined
I lean into you as you breathe into my ear
Your heartbeat steady against my back
Hands always searching for mine
My head tucked under your chin.
We fit perfectly together.
Your warmth is a comfort to my cool skin.
You tether me to this earth,
the anchor in a roiling sea,
as I try to keep my head above water.
I never needed you to save me, but nevertheless
You did.
About the Creator
Amy Writes
Personal essays with long titles, silly attempts at fiction, and Vocal challenge entries
Comments (2)
This is utterly beautiful. Really well done
Great imagery, prose is on point!