index | archives | notes Thursday, Jul. 07, 2005 9:49 p.m. << [ Gift Box ] >> Four in the morning. I wrapped a blanket around him and laid down on the couch, head to head, almost the way brothers and sisters are buried together in a book series I read a long time ago. Every five minutes or so, he raises his head to say something more, and he reaches out to hold my hand. I smile a little. "Turn your head." He obliges without hesitation, and I lean over and kiss his cheek for the second time that night. He looks back at me. "Why did you do that?" His tone isn't angry, or upset, just curious. He could be asking, "Why is the sky blue?" or "How do trains work?" And maybe because it's four in the morning, or maybe because he's drunk, or maybe because I'm tired of hiding everything, I tell him the truth. "Because I won't be able to in the morning." << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org