I wake up abruptly, forcing my eyes open, adjusting quickly to the darkness, scanning the space beside me for the outline of you, but you were not there. I must have been dreaming as I can feel the warmth of your body, the rhythmical rise and fall and the soft sounds as you exhale.
As I circle my hand over the cool flat emptiness where you once were I think of the silken feel of the shorn hairs on the back of your head, the smoothness of the nape and the strong supple back that invites me to press my cheek against its centre.
As my arm moves around you, your hand finds mine, fingers interlace. Then there is an adjustment, a slight movement that brings our bodies closer together and I wonder how you know I am there in your slumber but you just do. I can hear your heart beating inside. I hold my breath and begin again when you do and the two of us lie like this, a new day is beginning. As the darkness brightens I realise I could stay like this, that this is the only way I wish to wake.
Sadly the memory leaves me. I realise I begin today alone and wonder where you are and if you miss the feel of me as much as I you. With my hand still flat upon the cold empty space, I resolute to find you, to remind you of my smile, of our kisses, the feel of my hand in yours, my head on your chest, yours on mine, warm nakedness, hot wetness, fast breathless excitement of wanting. The collision, the crash, then the calm; the serene quiet oneness of our bodies laying together.