As fall slides to winter...

Angel,

We have turned the corner of autumn and heading toward winter. Last night was cold and clear with a blue-black sky that let the moon and stars be seen. The night feels fresh and clean and as it slides toward the early morning the city is still and quiet. Everyone has settled in and most are sleeping peacefully. I lay awake in my bed, letting the cold breeze drift in over me as my mind wanders...

I imagine you sleeping in your bed, your breath rhythmic, your body still... I wonder about the noises in your house and if they find their way into your dreams. I wonder if you are transported to a time or place that holds magic for you... I wonder if you think of me...  This cold air carries sound far and clear - I hear the forlorn call of a train's whistle. The trains run through the night and their sound is one of the loneliest..

It brings a melancholy mood over me and so wish that you were beside me now. I long for the scent of you filling this room, the rustle of you turning, and the feel of your weight in the bed beside me. I want to turn and find the warm skin of your shoulder and back curled - and your hair across the pillow. I want to listen to the rise and fall of your breathing and it's change as I move closer to you and then have it return as you drift back to sleep again.

I can imagine my arm around your waist and finding our fingers entwined when we wake. Stirring at the same time, untangling our arms and legs to turn over. As the room brightens with the morning, I am able to see your face and the sleepy smile. Making out your freckles, the line of your nose, jaw, brow, shoulders - I trace them first with my eye and then the soft touch of a finger. I long to kiss you but do not so as not to disturb your drifting between sleep and awake - between dreams and the morning... I will move slow and let my thoughts dwell in your curls, the nape of your neck, your bellybutton... I will have you drift here for as long as possible...

Another train whistle drifts in the window and in a minute it comes again. The train is fading away to the north, making its way eventually out of the city. I turn in my bed and look at the pillow where I wish your head lay. I push a dent into the pillow with my hand and remember a different morning...

Just me.