unconscious cogs

unspecified222one for the head, one for the heart…

 

At night, I let your lips carry me away.

I’m often restless when lying down. The day’s events bulldozer my brain into a rubble of untapped possibilities and debris of doubt. This fixation on fixing the past pulls me away from dreams. I switch from my back to my stomach to my side, turning away from the thoughts that grip me awake. But it doesn’t seem to work.

Until my mind meets up with you.

With closed lids, I think about your face and it helps filter out the superfluous noise. My mind’s eye pans out like a camera until I can see us both. Our lips are perfectly framed as we close in and kiss. But it’s not riveting. It’s relaxing. Your mouth is the melatonin that helps soothe me from the days’ stresses.

It’s this vaguest sense of shape, you and I. It’s been so long that I almost don’t know what it looks like to be intimate. I have to color in the missing parts of parted lips in order to properly set the scene. And focusing on filling in the gaps helps put me to sleep.

Other times, I think of you in bed next to me. I hold my extra pillow close to my body, mold its shape to what I imagine you’d feel like. Occasionally I’ll wrap my arm around it, other times lay my head on it like it’s your chest.

I recalled a conversation we recently had about cuddling and how you thought it was uncomfortable.

“It’s a nice image,” you said, “but the reality of the situation is it’s not as romantic as it seems. It gets hot. Quickly. And your arms go numb.”

I smiled at you and said, “I don’t care. I want to do it anyway. People experience these things. I wanna be one of them.” And I wanted to do it with you. But I’d never have the courage to tell you that.

Back in my mind, taking into account our conversation, we do eventually separate, inching our way to our own side of the bed. But our backs still touch. Our spines connect like cogs, interlocking as they work to spin us into sleep.

I take comfort in just knowing you’re there. We don’t have to touch from head to toe. Your energy is enough. Just knowing you want to lie with me is enough. Just knowing that you will be there tomorrow is enough. It’s just a dream before a dream, a fantasy to help me focus on getting to the other side for one more night. And that, too, is enough.

For now.

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