I See Black Before Me
07.08.2021
A weight lightly pressing my body against the bed. Delirium. My arms surround it, and I hear a voice. As my head slowly moves to see, my eyes open, and in a blur, I see you. Laying there, with your head against my chest, and my arm around yours. My eyelids feel heavy and against my will they slide down like two raindrops outside the window on a rainy day. My jaw, fallen, gives a view of a great dark cave tunneling inside. I am tired, but a little consciousness remains. You speak once more, and my world is lit up, as if by a certain slant of light, winter afternoons. After a second, the weight of the head on my chest is slightly lifted, as you curve back to kiss me. I can see your face now; I know who you are. With the contact my chest fills with euphoria, as if it were trying to support the source of the glistening great yellow vines, cascading down onto it. Slowly, everything fades to black. Weirdly, it all takes a step back. I cannot feel your weight anymore, and the haze appears to have disappeared. My eyes are closed, but I can feel around me. My left arm lays on my chest, while my right is lost downstairs. The cave is still open, but all there is to see is the blackness, nothingness coming from the inside. I went to sleep alone, but dreaming of you kept me company.
