Bedroom eyes
Golden light filtered gently into the room, illuminating every angle of your face, softening your smile and melting me into pliable plastic, bending at every curve your body offered. Your weight on top of me, with that runaway look in your eyes, like a child caught red handed, elbow deep in the cookie jar. You smile at me guiltily and bury your face in my neck. You kiss me softly once, then blow raspberries into my skin until the ringing of my laughter against these pale blue walls fades, as I pull you in for once last kiss.
You ask me what I’m smiling about, as I run my fingers through your hair and find myself tangled in day dreams of “what if”.
I can’t give you an answer, other than a beaming smile and a half hearted tackle back into the sheets as I try desperately to wrap my arms around your broad shoulders and back.
You pick me up as if I were weightless, and laugh heartily as I use all my weight to keep you bedlocked with me.
There, in that bed, afternoon light pouring in, with your favourite song playing softly as you ran your fingers through my hair, I felt at home, for the first time in years.