He is sleeping now. There is no sound. All his dragons are slayed. They have been slayed for some months. That is, if there were any dragons. I thought there were but I’m not sure. Perhaps he didn’t like his new sheets. Perhaps he couldn’t find a bead in among all the other beads he insists on lying on. Maybe he got his slippers tangled in the bedclothes, the ones that are thread bare, the ones he never takes off, the ones he loves.
I am not allowed into his room, even when I peer in to see if he is okay. When I push the door ajar he springs up, ready to pounce if I put one foot into his bedroom. Tonight, the lights are off. The lights are going off earlier now and he seems to get into bed quicker. Holding his breath he waits in a sitting position. “Do you need to go to the bathroom.” I whisper into the blackness. “No-oo.” “Okay, well if you do, go before you sleep, okay?” “Okay.” The repetition of my words means that he has understood.
He is still on his guard, however, still unsure if I was going to leave or invade his resting space. “Night night then.” I offer. Before I have time to close the crack his “Nigh Nigh” hurls through the darkness and faster than light itself, I hear the smack and take the full impact of his love. It is all of his own making; the thought, the co-ordination, the shaping and tightening of his lips, making the connections that surged through his body all at once to deliver such a simple thing. I resist the urge to run to him but tenderly kiss the dark before I pull the door between me and him. I can barely breathe. His kiss has taken my breath away.