The red glow of the light straining to get through my lids greets me as the day starts anew. The dark sheets envelop me, there smoothness inhibiting any desire to move. I take a long, deep breath, trying to coax my body to return to its slumberous state. Alas, it has been awakened, and further rest is impossible. I roll over and stare at the nightstand. My watch sits in the valet. The hands are lifeless, reminding me yet again I need to wear it in order to charge it. A worn paperback lies next to it, the first volume of "The Count of Monte Christo". For too long, I was a prisoner, yet I have been brought back to shore to find that shimmering jewel of the Catalan Village. A wave of contentment washes over me. The phone sits idle, I pick it up and glance at the time. Still too early for me to be anywhere. I breathe in again, my nose searching for any traces of you. They find a few small particles wafting in the air. Is it the soap you use? The shampoo? Or some other chemical concoction that creates your unique scent? Fear strikes me. If it is a trial to smell you, then you are not near. My hand darts out, hoping to be proven wrong, yet not hoping to accidentally strike you. Its futile grasps into empty air ensure me that the space behind me in the bed is indeed vacant. I roll over, my bleary eyes even dryer with disappointment. Then my ears perk up, they hear the whine of the shower as it musters up the courage to do its chore. My mind tries to keep to innocent thoughts as I grin. Comfort finds me anew as I know you are near. I sit up ans stretch out my arms, the muscles in my back ready to rip out from their moorings in revolt. An exhalation accompanies the relief. I sit up and blink. A poster glares back at me from the opposite end of the room. A woman in her finery taking out her melanated jaguar for a stroll. You possess that grace yet the moments you choose to display it are of your own choosing. I swivel my legs over the bedside, the pants leg of my pajamas catching with the friction. Coupled with stretching incident from earlier, the faded Pink Floyd tshirt looks like it is being pulled by an invisible black hole. I stand and shake so the clothes can find their natural resting place. I keep the volume low, but turn on the ipod to help wake me up. The speakers garble to life with the opening sounds of "Let it Rain". I lumber towards the bathroom still feeling the need to be closer to you. I wander in, but keep the door between me and the shower closed, letting my imagination have all the fun. My hands straddle the sink as I lean forward. I look up, taking in the motley, grizzled appearance of my face. At least certain important parties appreciate it. I take one hand and run it over the chin. That feeling always suprises and elates me. I brush my teeth, hoping that you won't have to suffer the plaque and grime that has been building up there overnight. Then comes the floss and listerine. I start thinking about putting on some deodorant when I hear the shower cut off. Your light footsteps softly splosh against the tile. The rack shudders as you pull a fresh towel, but I know that is not what you will be draped in, that is not your style. You have the day off today, so you prolly have something casual to loaf around in around the house. My mind races, playing games, solving cyphers as to what possible comibnation you could be wearing. I grin again, knowing that the clothes should never merit so much concern, it is the person that fills them that matters, no matter how beautifully they fill them out.... a few more rustles and i hear the knob begin to turn. I turn and lean my elbow on the counter, readying for an entrance that even Boticelli would describe as sublime. The door opens, and your radiance is revealed. You are tousling your hair, in order to rid it of those last stubborn droplets of water. Its dishelvedness portrays a glamour lost by most in this world. A black t-shirt clings to your frame, concealing all immodesty through its dark nature. A pair of charcoal boxers complete your ensemble, fully prepped for a day of reading or watching movies. I gaze into your wondrous eyes and draw you closer...
Hope the dreams are this good again
Sic semper tyrannosaurus
Dave
I was at : 4244 NW 76 Terrace, Gainesville, FL 32606,
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