Quietly
Set back from the little dirt road, behind the trees in some of the greenest grass I'd ever seen, at the front corner of the modest beach house in a cozy, silent little room with two picture perfect windows, he lay, eyes closed, in the small bed under soft sheets and cotton blankets. It was late. Morning, actually. I crawled in beside him with my book and I opened it.
"You're reading?" he whispered, drifting. "Don't read...I'm gonna fall asleep..."
"I just want to read for a little bit," I said, stretching my arm over his chest. He was talking about making love. We could have made love if I put my book down. And I wanted to. But I kept reading.
I wasn't focused on the page. I only read five of them. I listened to the sound of his breathing in sleep and I felt his warm body next to mine. I put the book down. I reached over him and turned out the light. I wrapped my arm around him under the sheets, kissed him, and rested my chin on his shoulder, quietly wishing he would wake and kiss me back and then I slipped into sleep myself.
