The percussive sound of branches breaking in the wind under the hollow moonlight made my skin crawl with loneliness.
How did I end up here?
You say it's love, but the blackness of the night envelopes me in its quiet anonymity and the blankets are heavy, my body restlessly encased in their folds.
You're next to me sleeping, I can tell by the steady rhythm of your breath.
Where are you?
I touch your milky skin with its sporadic and playful freckles, feelings its smoothness and it's warmth.
But, where are you?
Your eyes, when awake, open and jarringly blue-gray, don't sing to me anymore, but rather forcefully meet mine in a state of listless meaninglessness.
What are you thinking?
Did I ever know?
The fire in the stove crackles in the distance. Tomorrow morning will come and the coffee will be made, its hot acidity will bleed down my throat with a sense of dreadful familiarity.
You'll walk me to my car and then we'll perform the choreography of the beloved and putrid weekday, replete with endless responsibilities, not many of which we will successfully achieve.
However, we sure try - a shot in the dark with benevolence, haphazardness, and everything in between.
Time, as an entity, drips by, both fast and slow, and I once again don't know what to make of things.