Untitled – For the Flock

The night was far too short. She wanted to continue to feel his warmth, his heartbeat, his hardness nestled between the cheeks of her behind. Why did she let pride and selfishness prevent her from being wrapped up in his cocoon? She was saddened by the thought that this was his last night, but she put those thoughts of tomorrow off until that time came. She concentrated on the hear and now. The way he curled his body to fit against hers. The way he said come back when she would roll over in her sleep. The way he talked to her, soothing her when her eyes, heavy with sleep, were fighting to stay awake just to hear him keep talking.

How could she have misjudged him? Well, she knew how. She knew that during the day the never communicated on the same levels. Both too bright for their own good, they saw the world through different color panes of glass – hers a rosy color reflecting her naivity and his a yellow- seeing the cynism in most actions. She used bravado and intelligience to cover up the fact that she was unworldly and wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. He used jokes and self-deprication to hide his low self-esteem lest people get high expectations of him and he let them down.

But that one night all of that daytime frustration and confusion vanished. When he held her she felt like the proverbial princess. Safe, secure, free to be herself and expose herself to you. with no fear that her baggage will be a banshee and make him go screaming into the night. and with no fear that what she gives him will become a weapon used to hurt her and strip her of her fragile stability.

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