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Miscellaneous

Photo by Emily Ibarra

Small Spaces

It was there in small spaces that it happened.

We watched the room grow brighter with each passing minute,

Fighting off the dawn and squeezing our eyes shut tighter.

You sighed, breathing out the night and pulling me closer into you.

I felt your heartbeat, a familiar click against my spine,

And the weight of perfection that lies in the stillness of every passing moment.

It was small spaces that I lived in, that I lived for.

Outside of them, I cease to exist.

I disappear each morning only to be brought back to life in darkness each night.

I wait until the moon rises, my breath catching in my throat each time, and I choke on my words, Swallowing them until I feel your measured breaths become slower,

Until I know it's safe to whisper them under cover of night.

Small slivers of light moving slowly across my ceiling,

Mirroring the whites of your eyes when you throw your head back and laugh at me,

Always for something beyond my control or comprehension.

Eyes soft, hands rough, and words teasing.

“Sweet girl,” you said. “I’ll love you forever and a day.”  

I watch the moon cast its perfect light and move slowly across your sleeping face,

And I pass the time until morning.

Counting your steady breaths against all the terrible little things I love about our days spent together. You shift in your sleep and exhale velvet words into my neck,

Secrets of a life lived both before and after ours.

I lie there each night, begging my body and heart to relent, pleading my case.

I try and fail to widen each second, to live inside them, but I'll never be quite strong enough.

For now, I'll remain here.

To exist only in those small spaces that fill the void between night and day.

Arielle Mullen