Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Feeling Small and Important

As I lay in the clean Spring sheets of my some times shared bed thinking about things large and small, my hand slides over to the vacant side and I feel my lungs fill with a strange sense of duality. I tuck my hand under my body to assume the usual self-cuddled position and pull my knee up across the void, to both fill the space and know that I can. All at once I am relieved at the chance to sleep soundly alone, yet vaguely melancholic at the absence of you. I sigh and close my eyes trying to calm the restlessness I feel creeping in like a crack in the sidewalk. It moves slowly though, so there is no time to take root before my mind can pick a side. A sly grin inches across my face as I remember the last time I got to be the little spoon, tucked in your equally-debating crevasse. My back arches without permission (but I don't mind) into the memory of your thumb on my hip bone. I feel small and important, like a locket. Lockets have their secrets too, even if there is nothing in them when you open it. A whisper escapes. A moment. A sigh. A spoon. I drift off slowly, other small and important flatware compiling quickly in my head. Tomorrow I'll make room in the utensils drawer for them all (separated by commas to keep it organized).

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