A Pressing

I’m far from well Sebastian.
Far from cool waters
Just heat. Trickling down furrowed-in brow
Dampening pillow’s down
Lacking the strength to toss, just wait.

Stifle a moan, stare intent.
Imagine a clean, cream space
no yellowed sheets
no waiting
no hushed tones in case sleep has finally come to claim.

I’m far from well Sebastian.
Far from you, the shape of your face.
Though my fingers remember it clearly.
Tracing it out like braille
on whatever medium they can catch.

A clean, cream space.
Edged in the barest flight of dust
caught in a sunbeam, a tracing, an imprint.
Shift your gaze and it’s gone.

I’m far from well Sebastian.
I thought you knew. Thought it why you stayed.
Thought it exactly why you knew to sleep apart.
But no lock Sebastian? You tease… you test… you knew.

A clean, cream space.
Blank pages in a book.
A wild flower.
Saved.
Preserved.
Though yellowing & too fragile to touch. Mine.

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