A slight movement next to her made her shift her hazy attention from her window to her left side, finding first tousled dark hair covering a tan face resting on her pillow. The sight made her face warm, and her body deliciously giddy with a strange happiness and contentment she had only had the pleasure of feeling once in a while. She became slightly more awake, then; remembering all the things that happened after the curtains were put up, her face even warmer by the time she forced herself out of her reverie. She was his, and knowing that little fact made her happy to the tips of her very satisfied toes. Making little movement, she carefully lifted her hand to lightly brush away his hair from his sleeping face, a fond smile slowly growing on her lips as more of his countenance was revealed to her. That she was lucky was all she could think of in that moment; just watching him breathe in and breathe out the same air she was breathing, sleeping in the same bed as she was. She let her gaze wander as her mind did, absently wetting her lips at the sight of his bare arms and chest, remembering how each mark appeared to be here and there before sighing as the sheets covered the rest of his body.

She smiled. No doubt she had similar marks on her skin; as accepting as he was of her, she had been of him as well. A soft sigh escaped her as she stretched languidly, careful not to stir anything too much, not wanting to disturb him.

But she felt a hand smoothly sliding across her bare abdomen, and sure enough when she turned her head, his sleep-filled eyes steadily met her own. A soft smile was on his plump lips, and she couldn’t help but return one of her own as he gently pulled her close to him, his hand slowly snaking to her lower back as she rolled onto her side to be closer to him. Their lips met briefly, almost shyly as they silently greeted each other in the soft light of the morning. Her hand strayed to his chest while his steadily rubbed slow circles on her skin just above the curve of her buttocks, soothing a small kink she didn’t realize she had until he touched it. She mewled softly in appreciation, and she heard him murmur in return.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

your quiet and subtle manner
takes my breath away
now i can’t seem to breathe
when you’re not with me

take responsibility
you probably didn’t ask for me
and i didn’t ask for you
but here we are

two people in a circumstance
we can’t really avoid
not quite in love but
not also quite friends

Happy Valentine’s Day and Happy Chinese New Year.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Your cheeks are wet.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“Your pillow is damp.”

“I drooled.”

“You haven’t gone to bed that long.”

“I did it on purpose.”

“You’re too neat for that.”

“Please shut up.”

“I can hold you.”

“You’re not him.”

She has faked so many smiles in the past that she has it down to a fine art. She casts it in the direction of the man sitting across the table, acknowledging his statement over some such other that is, at the moment, utter nonsense to her distracted person.

She wants to be anywhere but here.

The man clearly likes hearing the sound of his own voice, and effortlessly carries enough conversation for the both of them that she contributes just an “ah” or an “oh” and a “that’s an interesting thought” to keep him going.

And going.

And going.

And going.

But she feels that this man’s company, however undesirable, is needed. She craves this distraction, no matter how useless it is in actually diverting her thoughts from him simply because she needs something to pass the time while he isn’t with her.

She finds it funny how lonely she feels just at that moment.

He looked at her as if she had slapped him. He half-wished she did, if it would distract him from the pain welling in his chest. He could only look at her, dumbly so, while his mind raced with half-formed questions he wanted to throw at her. He wanted to make her understand, somehow, yet found nothing to make sense with.

What had he done wrong this time?

He looked at her… her flushed cheeks, her wide and damp eyes… her lips were parted as if ready to hurl more undoings at him. He was hurt by the sight of her: how betrayed she looked, how deeply wounded she was by the very accusations she threw at him. Did she truly believe her own words?

He looked at her ’til he could no longer bear the sight of his anguish mirrored in her countenance. He simply did not know what to do anymore.

He fled.

He did not see her fall to her knees.

He did not see her tears.

He did not hear her quiet sobs.

He could not see her.

We have to
take apart every excess
that has cluttered our life
with life
until there is nothing left but
humanity

To the last moments
breathing
with or without you

I’m a convenience
So easily swayed
by pretty words that
were never yours in
the first place

I am a fool who
comes back to you A
fool twice—oh…maybe
it’s not quite over.