Heavy-Handed

It’s not too late. Not early. Bedtime for early risers. We’re talking. Rudy and I are. Then there’s a lull. Our conversation slows and eventually ceases. Rudy turns onto his back. I roll onto my stomach. Side by side, we lie. He snores. I listen. Various noise levels exude from him. Until he wakes. Apologizes. Knows how sensitive I am to sound. He rolls onto his right side. Facing me. Rests his left hand on my lower back. I’m comforted. Rudy’s hand feels heavy. Warm. Secure. He’s snoring again. His breathing is loud, then quiet, then loud again. I listen. I’m enjoying his heavy hand. Heavy like a thick blanket on a winter day. Heat penetrating my skin. He sleeps. Is relaxed. Not realizing he’s touching me. The heat of his hand gets progressively warmer. I feel safe. Cared for. As if I’m receiving a warm embrace. Then he wakes. Removes his hand. Says it’s hot.  Says he’s sweating. My back slowly cools. He turns to his other side. Reaches behind him. Pats my back. Apologizes for snoring and falls back to sleep.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s