Concerning going away...

"I don't know why I ever went away" you sighed. Naked in our bed, far away eyes on the ceiling, your arm crooked and the back of your hand pressed to your forehead.

We had just made love - or were about to - and I was absorbed in the slow explorations of your body. Your voice drifted over us, a whisper that felt like it was meant more for yourself than for me. Thinking that it may have been an escaped thought, one not meant to have left your own musings, I did not respond.  I let it wash over us, drift away and vanish like vapour. 

The moment, like so many others between us, was perfect. Cocooned in a slow quiet and safe place, bare to each other but unafraid. I held onto this moment, willing it to last, letting my fingers run circles and patters across your soft skin.  I wanted to let sink into you all that I was feeling, pouring all of me out through the tips of my fingers and the fleshy palm of my hand, as if by osmosis the truth of my heart could be known to you.

I do not know why you go away - I cannot properly respond to you in any other manner but it the way in which I am in this moment. I know that you are here now, but you will go away again at some time - and then return bewildered at the time lost. 

I will stay as steady as I am able and wait for your return. These moments are worth waiting for you.

The Man in the Station