i woke up spooning K----. or, as tennessee williams would say: “she got the downstairs; i got the up.”

it was our first night together and all i could think of was the way dave marr sings “i can’t believe / i ever woke up / without her here before.”

my eyes were closed but i could tell she was still sleeping. i kissed her back softly, twice on her right shoulder blade and once in the center.

i looked down at the gap between our bodies. it was small and less naked than we were. i made it smaller.

the movement made her stir slightly and i answered her body’s questions with the palm of my right hand. it found her stomach, her arm, her hip, her thigh, gliding between them, slow, almost hovering. it said “you’re beautiful”, “i’m here”, and “be with me?” it wondered if she was real, if we were really here together, and whether it would last. i knew she was, we were, and it would.

i propped myself up, doing my best not to disturb her. i watched her breathe. her lips were slightly parted.

i’d woken a few times during the night and watched her. i thought to myself how i’d never seen someone smile so much in their sleep. she looked peaceful. content.

she sensed my presence and opened her eyes. i must have smiled at her because she blushed slightly and closed them again. i thought of myself as a child and how i hid behind my mother’s leg whenever we met someone new.

i placed a kiss on her cheek and lowered myself back down beside her. she moved backward against me till there was no gap at all, just two warm bodies trying to be one. i pulled the blanket up to cover us and closed my eyes.

i could feel strands of her hair on my face. two.

if i concentrated, i could smell her shampoo. if i didn’t, i could smell us.

we were still, now, and breathing in synch. seconds passed, and together we found sleep.