Love

By Bina

I wake while you’re still sleeping.

Faint folds of dawn stretch across the frayed carpet. Untangling the sheets from my twin bed, I hesitate briefly, then pad past yours. Your cheeks, your tangled sweat-soaked hair, bruised jaw, cut lip, all force my throat to grow tight, raw.

It’s chilly. Condensation drips down the windowpanes. I boil the kettle, grab a blanket, brush the broken clock.

Perching on the steps outside, a harsh wind embraces me as I grip my steaming coffee. Below, the dark Welsh waves heave. Above, my eyes inhale the parting clouds.

We’re far gone now.

I promise.