I am crumpled against the cream coloured wall
in the crevice formed by the mattress.
The wind lolling in from the open window
laps at my soles, tickles my toes.
Your arm, draped around my hips like a loosely slung belt.
It was midnight and I was awake, like every usual night,
and in that moment I thought of my past love,
wondering of his existence, though I didn't miss him,
and the thought sunk into my stomach
like a swallowed cherry pit,
leaving me a bloom with numbness.
At 1:24 AM you called, and saw I was sleepless,
you invited me down for company,
and I obliged,
for I am single, and allowed to share anyone's bed.
We listened to soft music, and then you turned out the light,
and we gazed at the neon stars upon your ceiling,
and pondered the meaning of life.
You slept, I listened.
Your breath slow and steady, catching on the end of your nose
in a gentle hum,
mimicking the refrigerator buzz.
I shut my eyes and dreamed of broken houses
and run away trains, awoke alone and afraid.
You reached out, without a word, stoked my arm,
like my mother used to when I was sick with the flu.
I know how easy it is to flee into a rebound of another embrace
when lonely and broken,
and I'm so glad I refrained.
For you are not a boy, but a girl,
your hair splayed around the pillow tangles with mine,
our bodies intertwine, hearts combine
both broken and lonely, yet we are whole
and so we sleep tonight.