Summer night

Summer night

I wake up in the gray-blue summer darkness. The rain whispers and rattles through the foliage of the beech trees outside the window. It’s that time of night when the shadows take unfamiliar forms. The last birds have stopped singing. The first ones have not yet begun. You’re on the side. Breathes deeply and calmly. Your strong body is summer dark against the white sheet. A narrow silver jewellery sparkles over your neck. I’ll sit up half and look at you. You look serious when you sleep. I miss you. You’ve been asleep for five hours and I miss you. Miss your sparkling, playful gaze. I’m already longing for more of what you did to me five hours ago. The thunder sounds in the distance. I’m crawling next to you. Sneaking an arm around your chest. I vaguely sense that your heart is beating against my palm. The old alarm clock breaks up the time on the bedside table. I’m going to push your breasts against your back. You’re deliciously warm and a little moist in your skin. Your heat is flowing into my body. Make me calm and happy. And lit. The storm’s getting closer. There’s a draw over your beautiful face as a new thunderbolt sounds in the night. Silence. Rain and alarm clock. Wake up, I whisper. Way too low, though. Wake up, darling. I need you.

Storms and nights out there. Vague footsteps through the rain. Cold hands and hearts on the way to find someone to warm themselves on. Joyless laughter under glorious lamps. Hunting. Escape. All this out there is no longer about me finding you. When you make love to me, you touch my soul. I’ve never had anyone like that. Your eyes are green with laughter but black with pleasure. Your eyes, hard, riveted in mine. You’re so beautiful when you’re. Your hands around my wrists. They’re still sore. I’m still wet. Or wet again, swollen and swollen by an unstoppable lust that barely needs sleep. I push my body against you, feel the firm buttocks against my abdomen. I’ll kiss you in the neck pit. Wet and gentle. Your hair smells clean and masculine. The sensory images are in the body. As if it’s all over, as if it’s never going to happen again, as if you’re never going to wake up from this night where I watch over you so endlessly and lonely and impatient. Your head between my breasts, I soap your hair in, wash you with light hands, you close your eyes and laugh. I kiss you through running hot water in the dark in the shower…