The dawn closes in , and I try to hold the moments of the passing night in my clenched fingers... I close my eyes and hold the blanket hoping the day away.
For when the day comes ..... it will be the end of the night .... the day will look at the night with disdain and disgust. I do not like the day , I like smiling in the dark and asking it to hold me the way he holds me.
I turn around and touch him , I can feel his even breathing ... he is fast asleep.
I hold the blanket closer and smell it ... it smells of wool and him. Everything smells of him ... Even I smell of him... Its like as though we have exchanged our bodies for the night. I can feel him in me , on me, inside me ... I do not know if he feels so or not, but I can vaguely see the smile on his lips in the red rays of dawn and strangely feel satisfied myself. I prop myself on my elbows, and I can see a night well spent.. the woolly blanket lying astrew, the sweet smells of our lovemaking engulfs us as though an invisible umblical cord holding us together, as if on cue he turns over in his sleep, fondles me and settles down, his arm on my breasts...., I run my fingers through his tousled head, caress his cheekbones and touch his lips... for I know the day will rob me of him. What has been love to us will be filth to the Morning. What has been happiness to us now will be disgust to the Day.I try and inhale his sweet sweat mingled with his aftershave, for I know that the Day will transform this sweetness into a stench some hours later.
His hand on my body reminds me of the places it went in the night and a small smile escapes my lips ... the memories of the meeting of the minds and then the bodies still is afresh after the eventful night. I wonder if I can ever remember the scene with as much love as I do now, but by now, I can no longer think ... my body has stopped my mind from thinking , I slip back under the covers ... waking him a little in the process , he must wake up now , for its almost Morning ... but the sun can stay, so can the rays of the dawn as I pull up the covers, but he is uncomfortable , I stand up walk naked to the window to draw the curtains ... I can feel the warm rays of an inquisitive sun on me .. I feel he is interrogating my body, asking it what it did in the shiled of Night, and I shut the Sun out with a sinngle action of my hand, walk back to where I was, into his half wakeful arms, to recreate the magic of the night for one more time, one final timebefore the spiteful Day arrives to snatch him away from my pleasure filled embraces.....
I wake up again later, but by now .. The DAY has taken over, I turn over to hide in his protective arms , but he is not there, he is no longer next to me , only a warm spot on the pillow shows me where he slept, a toss of the bedcovers tells me how he got up, the cup of tea tells me what he did in the Day. I feel the stench now, his stench, my stench .... our stench. For he is no longer there, the love is no longer there. It is Morning already