moments

i drink from a plastic purple twisty straw,
you from an average-joe mcdonalds one,
as we share a can of pop while watching
late-night cartoons on tv.
your straw is thicker than mine and so
you are unknowingly hogging all the ginger ale,
but i don't mind. we are so close that
i can smell your hair and that is all that matters.

i wake you in the morning by brushing your arm
with my fingertips; i trace the angle of your bent legs
beneath your blankets. you pull me so close
to you that i am smothered and cannot breathe,
but i could never take another breath and i would be happy,
as long as you keep me tucked away inside your body.

at night i lay with you on the floor,
wrapped tightly in your arms, dreaming of
chocolate-marshmellow kisses. you twitch in your sleep,
a jolt that shocks both of us awake. you kiss my cheek
softly and say that you're sorry, but i just smile
in the dark, snuggle closer to you, and go back to sleep.