sleeping with my mother in her wide bed,

the cold windows shed blue radiance

over our form.

her sturdy arms were flung over me;

here i was safe, comfortable

like in a velvet cage.

with sarah it was different.

having her behind me, 

arms strong but small, 

i could never feel close enough to her

like i wanted to push

until i was part of her body.

her breath would graze against me

and she would wait until i was asleep 

to close her tired eyes.

i could never stay still, 

i wanted to flip towards her

so our eyes met and then our mouths

so i could talk to her and whisper 

and laugh with her and sing.

i would wake up in the night 

and kiss her awake.

the next day i was never rested.

we'd stay up talking,

about nothing i can remember,

and my mind kept returning to her as i slumbered,

waking me to see that she was still there.

her sweet lips told sweet stories 

of sweet times and sweet musings.

i remember my bed

the thick red cover cloaking us.

the lamp was on,

reflecting from her eyes.

she sat up.

i am so in love with you.

i almost cried, my chest swelled.

a smile spread from her lips to mine.

we kissed and then hugged

tight, grasping, never close enough.