Sunday, September 25, 2005

Missing you

This bed's too big when you're not in it. The duvet feels heavy and it pins me down, trapping me and making me dream. Sometimes in the night I reach out for you and the cotton is cold, or I wake up and your side is unbearably smooth compared to my scrumpled, crumpled nest of covers. This bed's too big without you and I miss the heat that radiates from every stretch of your skin and every twitch of your tendons. Come back and entangle yourself in this cool cocoon someday soon... this bed's too big without you.


She’s staring out of the window, blonde hair with the kind of whispery highlights which require constant care…a San Tropez tan (not the bottled variety) and a perfectly tailored, precisely co-ordinated, height-of-fashion ensemble. She is flicking through a shiny wedding magazine… absently sifting through pages of fake smiles and the rock of a diamond on her left hand sends shards of light spiralling around the carriage. She shifts her heavy black sunglasses slightly and in doing so reveals the edge of a very dark, angrily swollen black eye and her hand returns to her lap where she twists the ring around and around her finger.

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