Her sudden absence has arrived again,
for perhaps a day or two or three or four.
At first, my inquiries had been gently met by passive dismissal,
until the day that bruise was met with blood.
"It's nothing," was not quite enough, so she offered something more
"We're safe by what you do not know."
Not enough for most, perhaps, but I know her eyes,
I know her skill.
The strength of her soul radiates like heat,
and I trust her secrets
Her sudden presence is made known again,
this time by her weight on the bed and me.
I open my eyes to a moonlit face,
and two calm eyes exploring mine.
This time in the dark,
we begin her welcome home.
She takes my hands and presses them to her flesh,
gentle winces to note her marks.
She guides my fingers across abraded lines,
still fresh and warm, and greater in number.
Tonight she does not tell me where to ignite her senses with my lips and tongue.
Tonight she does not have me taste her delicate pain.
Tonight she leans to me, and between roving kisses, so soft and slow.
Tonight she whispers quiet words in a voice new to my ears.
"I like you mine." "I like you here."
Tonight I feel her first tear on my cheek as something in her releases.
"I like you mine." "I like you here."
Tonight I only hold her close and let her fall asleep in my arms as she says,
"I like you mine." "I like you here."
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