Painted with Lavender
You lay beside me beneath sheets painted with lavender. My chest quivers at your touch, delicate fingers navigating the curves and pitfalls felt by no one else. The sides of your mouth lift in that way that they do to make my body melt into yours. I’m in awe of you, of this moment. An array of purples and blues outline your silhouette. Flecks of stars glimmer against your skin. You graze my hands, held close to my chest. They intertwine, so close to the beating of my heart. I shudder, knowing you bear witness to all of me.
We fit perfectly, shaped by cosmic intention. A finger reaches my cheek, gliding along my skin which is now yours. You were made for me, and I pray I was made for you. The warmth under the covers sends me fluttering. I only wish that you’ll stay, that this moment could endure forever. That part of me aches. It remembers those lonely nights under twilight. No stars atop skin or sunsets to fall into. The wind carried whispers, but they weren’t yours. Before I reached your eyes and felt your lips, I would imagine you lying here—your skin on mine. Our breath intermingled like it had always been that way. That aching was black and cold and clutched at my throat. It hurt to be. I longed for you, and I pray you did too.
I frolic in the mundane
late-night grocery hunts for instant mashed potatoes
movie nights inside because it’s dreary outside
walks in the park where we see the trees we’ve seen one hundred times over
looking up at the stars, I still don’t know the name of
you outstretch to point, but I just look at you
in the firelight
It’s amazing how time slips away, however dreadful it feels in the pit of my stomach. I’ve watched your smile crease and your eyes grow wings. They are lighter than they once were, not dull but dimming. But when I look closer, there’s something unchanged. You are still you and I am still me. You still laugh at my jokes. (Badly executed with the best intentions.) My ears still perk at the melody you dance to in the kitchen. The stars that glittered still shine the same way. You are mine, and I am yours, and I will cherish you like I do every day.
When the time comes, I won’t say goodbye. It would hurt too much. To admit that you’re gone is to cease any possibility, any flicker in my heart, that there is more to be had. There are so many words unspoken, so many songs unsung, so many dances not done,
so many late nights,
early mornings
without you.
This bed is too empty, and the hole you left grows larger, a force upon sore ribs. I breathe in, but you aren’t in my lungs. Where has the lavender gone?
