I really thought about staying. Wanting so much just to rest, locked in your arms long enough for us to drift off. To wake up next to you and watch you sleep for a moment. To see the slow rise and fall of breath in your lungs and the soft fluttering of your eyes while you dreamt in those early hours. And then, at the first signs of light, I could make my way around the room to gather my things. Perhaps even collecting a small something of yours to take with me. Something with your scent attached. For when I want to live this night again. But there is nothing I feel comfortable leaving you without. Because all I really want to leave with is your heart. I pressed my fingers against your chest and into those inked knuckles all night, wishing for passage. Hoping that if I could get past the irons, my grip wouldn’t fail me. Hindsight tells me those painted knuckles are a symbol of barrier, a warning to unwelcome trespassers. And I still wonder about the suit behind your ear. The hidden meanings in all the pieces of you. So many I have yet to see. So many I have yet to understand. I wonder if I will ever be given the chance. Or why I think I might be deserving of such. I kissed you there anyway. Relishing the burn against my lips that I knew I would feel all those months ago. And I loved every second. I loved every second of my lip caught between your perfect teeth and the pain that tingles across them when I smile or speak now. I loved every second of my hands tangled in yours, held above my head. And you pressing against me. You pressing into me and the rough of your whiskered cheek on my neck. I loved every second I could swallow every inch of you over and over again and that it was me making you groan with abandon. I loved every second your tongue invaded my mouth, stealing my breath away. Leaving me wanting. All of those seconds are mine. But I fear them. Because in stealing a look into Pandora’s box, I cannot deny that I want to see more. And I cannot deny that I have put myself in this situation. But I like being there. Because it’s where you were. The hours that you gave me will remain precious to me. Even if you go back to your island and tell stories about notches. We all have those, I suppose. And maybe, if I am on the tip of your tongue, then maybe it means I am not far from your mind. Or where I really want to be. And I’d remain there, yours, for as long as you’d allow.
I really thought about staying. REALLY thought about it. When the conversations of others quieted, my thoughts ran wild. The what-ifs regarding a less than sure thing, because it is a new thing, roared in the space between my ears. They still roar. So what if I did stay? What if I gladly squandered away everything I know to chance? Would any of the words you’ve whispered to me hold true? Would any of mine to you? And what level of foolish do I land on if they don’t? There is not one thing I wanted more than to obey you when you asked me to stay the night. To please… just stay. I wanted to risk exactly everything just to love you instead. Just to love YOU instead. Even if that meant just loving you for one whole night. But I know myself. And I know I wouldn’t be satisfied with only that. Not only one. As it stands now, I’m quaking. You see, one night isn’t enough to memorize the peaks and valleys of your skin. Or to learn the all of tattooed colors you carry and their stories. Or to lotion your scars. Or to sit with you simply. Or to rub your shoulders after a day hunched over while ideas flowed. Or to sit in a mountain of cotton sheets and drink coffee and play card games in our underwear. Or to lose myself completely in the perfect symmetry of your face and the clear blue depths of your endless glacier eyes. I really thought about staying. Knowing that this path I now walk has and end but not being able to see where that end lies is a burden. I’m growing tired of its weight and yet, without being able to glimpse the end yet, I have to keep my shoulders heavy and push on. Just a while longer.
Just a little while longer.