Sail Me Away

I would have spoken to her about distance and I would have spoken to her about silence. She was away, though, lost deep in her dreams while I waited on the shore of the morning for the tide of light to come easing through the window and sail me away towards the day.

I would have spoken to her about my dreams too, about those dark corridors and tunnels I had stumbled down, those dark forests I had run through, either to get away from something, or to find something. The dreams had not been that clear, one moment I felt as though I was fleeing, another I felt I was approaching something; something I both feared and desired.

I did not know.

I did not know whether to burrow down under the sheets again, knowing that like all our nights together, when she felt my presence there, next to her in her sleep she would ease her sleeping body as close to mine as she could. Even now, in her sleep her one hand held my cock, held me in the bed by her side.

So many nights I had woken, feeling caught by something to find her lying behind me, her arms wrapped around me, or sleeping on my chest, or with her hand holding me as now, as though she expected me to run away from her, to leave her and run towards something that lay beyond this bed, leaving her alone.

Then, as dawn broke through the curtains, like the waves I could hear down on the beach below, I knew she was right and how much I wanted to be gone.