Heart Side

I sleep on his heart side. Even when I’m in bed alone, I don’t cross over the invisible boundary into that space where he would be, where he will be, hours from now. I count them down, even while I sleep, as my own heart stops and starts again in irregular, unpredictable intervals. In my dreams I’m waiting for him, looking for him, pacing the floors, the streets, the skies. At last his face floats into view and I relax as he comes toward me. I smile and turn my face up to his. Mi corozon, I whisper. He kisses me in reply and I surface like an erstwhile, reluctant swimmer from a cold and murky depth into the warm, aerated embrace of life. I breathe in deeply and exhale his name. For a moment my eyes flutter open, just long enough to take in the sight of him, then close again as I drift back to sleep, this time to dream that he’s here beside me, memories and shadows and ghosts unseated by live, scented, sense-evoking flesh, enfolding me, freeing and cherishing me, all traces of boundary released and soon, so soon, forgotten.

Advertisements

9 Responses to “Heart Side”

  1. “Sleep on his heart side.” So powerful! It grabbed me.

  2. And his weed breath?

  3. I’m getting used to it…;)

  4. Thanks Pamela, as always.

  5. very nice, indeed, very nice

  6. glad you liked it…

  7. but it’s only a dream, after all, isn’t it.

    it always is.

  8. Beautiful. It makes me remember the good part of a love lost.

  9. Ah yes, all love is good, it’s what is not love that goes with it that leaves us remorseful.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: