by Rochelle Roberts

 

There is a soft heaviness

In the first moments of wake,

A warm fuzz of consciousness.

Eyelids flicker,

The tickle of an eyelash,

Hot breath filling the space beneath the covers.

 

I imagine we mirror each other,

My back facing yours,

And yours mine,

A deep-rooted anchor

Connecting the space between us.

 

There is a comfort in the heaviness,

The slow unfurling of my spine.

I feel luminous,

Safe in the knowledge that

You are feeling this too;

The slow ritual of the morning.

 

I roll onto my back,

Reach to remember the feel of your skin on mine,

Rush of blood to the heart

And my stretching fingertips.

I think you will echo me

But there is an empty space,

Blank and uninviting.

It takes me only a moment to remember

You were never there.

 


Rochelle Roberts | @rocheller@rochellerart 

Rochelle is a writer living in London. She studied creative writing at university and works in arts publishing as a sales and marketing assistant. She also run a writing group, The Scape, with her friend in east London.

Support Dear Damsels

Words are empowering – not only for the women who write them, but those who read them too.

Join our Patreon and help us continue to offer an inclusive and welcoming space for women to come together, share their words, and get a resounding response back.

Sign up to our Patreon