Train Whistle

 

Its late as you finally get up to turn out our bedroom light. I curl into you as you cover us with a yawn, you slip your arm around my head so my head’s against your shoulder, my cheek against your chest. It’s quiet, I can hear the crickets outside our window behind us; so quiet I can hear your breathing as I feel light tugs at my curls, your fingers playing with them softly. I rest against you tired but not yet sleepy, neither are you, I can tell your still awake still pulling at my curls gently letting them fall and then tugging at them again letting them fall.

   I look over at the clock, in the dark the bright red numbers read 12:28. Two minutes give or take. The time passes slowly but there’s no rush as you lean down kissing the top of my head, I still feel, with a quiet smile, the tug, drop, tug, drop at my curls. I want to tell you how much I love it when you do that, how I love it whenever you play with my curls but I don’t want to break this perfect silence, for it will be broken soon but in the best way. I glance at the clock   again, 12:34. It’s late but that’s half the fun, for its never on precise time.

    There it is in the distance the nightly train whistle. My heart fills with total bliss. You move your arm down around my shoulder pulling me closer with another kiss to my head as we listen to the faint sounds of the train on the track moving by. It brings us both the sleepiness we need as we slowly start to drift away. My cheek against the warmth of your chest, curled in close as the train continues to move by another whistle blows farther in the distance. We drift away quietly together.

Reviews

[Jamie Fantasy]

There's the detail I love! I can really see it all. Great job at capturing a beautiful and romantic moment.

My only suggestion is that you watch your punctuation. You tend to do many run on sentences. Don't forget that when you move from poetry to prose, the feel of the sentences and the punctuation changes a bit.