Those nights

if i just stop thinking,
close my eyes,
turn to my left,
(and sigh)
i can almost imagine
your arms enveloping
me in warm cocoon,
(i learnt there to not be afraid)
your arm moving under my neck,
that nightly ritual unsaid,
shifting my head to your shoulder,
feeling your beard tickle my ears,
(it looks so perfect on you)
your hand sweeping over
my stray hairs creeping up your nose
tickling a sneeze but earning a
~snore~
(i won't change it for anything in the world)
another snore and i'll turn
to face your armpit,
(i fidget to free my pleading nose)
throw out an arm like a fish line,
trying to pull you close,
(and you cradle me close instead)
another deep breath,
harmonious rising and falling chests,
fingers sneaking down to familiar grounds,
(i remember work and curse the invention of jobs)
fingers creep back up, discreet,
you turn to me, i can't breathe,
(another freedom struggle for my nose)
but i quite like the smell of you,
few more gentle snores,
then i fall asleep to my own lullaby,
and dream of riding motorcycles,
holding a big, brown teddy bear;
oh, how i miss those nights.