Shipwrecked

For the first time today, since the last time I saw you, I slept without clothes.

As the blanket grazed my skin where your hands used to be, the softness jerked me awake.

I expected a callous hand at the small of my back, and a grip around my waist that slowly melted into a light touch, beginning at my hipbone and traced downwards.

 Instead, like a man lost at sea, the blanket’s fluidity crashed into me and I laid shipwrecked, gasping in the treacherous sea as the fluffy waves pulled me, deeper into the abyss. And for the first time, I missed those hands that once anchored me.

I expected a tight grip around my waist, and a calloused touch trying hard to be soft, starting from my hip bone tracing downward. But instead, the looseness of my blanket couldn’t ground me, and my thoughts spiraled to you.