When the fight was over;
his anger faded to tiredness,
he spoke.
“Anything you want?”
The question hung in the air between them,
heavy and humid,
like the hot sticky night.
She stayed silent.
Reaching out and pulling his arm around her shoulder;
forcing his chest against the length of her back.
She lay like that for several moments,
in his arms feeling each bead of sweat that formed between them
where their skin touched.
Forced calm breathing hid the fat hot tears that tumbled down her face
pooling on the pillow.
Then finally
and just a shade above a whisper
she made her response into the calm dark night.
“I want you to hold me, as if you love me.
Pretend that you’re happy to be here
with me in your arms,
for but a minute.
Because I know in my heart that at some point
you have loved me.
And maybe one day
you might again”
Her voice faded into nothing
and they lay like that for a time.
He snored, low and quiet, and the weight of his arm around her became intolerable.
She sought her own little portion of the bed
taking care not to wake him.
A loneliness
so vast
so deep
took over her consciousness.
She remained staring
numbly upwards
until the first rays of the sun peered through the window slats;
illuminating the ceiling’s chipped paint.
